Feral Love: All of Me
by NinkSkoir
Summary: His pity gave her new life, his cruelty took it all away... The heart made of stone shed its hardened exterior warmed by her touch. She was always his, always... Till the very end.
1. Found

**Hello dear readers!** **Hope you will enjoy this.**

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 _ **'Feral Love: All of Me'**_

 _ **Chapter One**_

 _ **'Found'**_

 _ **'A place for my head' Instrumental by Linkin Park**_

"I never wish to see you again."

Narquelion's melodic voice was as sharp as shards of shattered glass as she relinquished the offspring. Her dark robes swished in a fluid movement as the Elleth spun to face away. Like the once pleasant illusion her slender frame vanished bleeding into the shadows that surrounded the clearing. He stood under the protection of Mirkwood trees. In utter shock, unable to react, his eyes held a blank stare in the direction she left in. After a short while his nose couldn't discern her scent any longer, she was gone, lifetimes away now and he was not invited along. The male's face grew darkened, his jaw tightened tremendously as his fingers moved stiffly clenching and releasing the fists. The muscle in his chest, one pumping blood, one responsible for feelings... It ached... Tweaked as the crushing agony constricted his chest. The algid fingers of despair crept in unhurriedly to take hold of it...

He clutched the child to his chest.

Her words rang over and over again in his throbbing head. He shook it, exasperated with the persistent thoughts.

The rider pivoted sharply to head to the nearest clearing.

Elves are perfect and pure...

"Hmmpff," the half-Orc grunted furiously. And self-absorbed... What the Elleth did was near bizarre to him, how could anyone even fathom that a female would give up a child, especially a daughter... His mirthless golden gaze descended onto the small, pudgy bundle laying in his lap. The baby was content, her eyes that resembled his own so much, smiled at him. She is just a tiny infant, she's got no clue she was just rendered motherless. What will he do when she needs to feed? _Shapogatâr_ gulped, a deep sigh of helplessness has left his strong chest. He stroked his daughter's bright locks with absentminded gentleness.

"What will I name you, _nardurash_?" He whispered tenderly in the Orc tongue.

He was glad his daughter was born to posses more human features, in an odd way it will probably work in her favor. In a bout of helplessness he thought of traveling to Westfold to his old friend in arms but changed his mind. He loved her too much to let her go, even though this decision appeared to be incredibly selfish to the half-blood mercenary. What a life it is for a little girl, not having a roof over their heads, a home, a mother's figure..? He sat there transfixed for a while, back stooped, head bowed in resignation. His inky locks fell forth rimming his chiseled features. Suddenly the Orc felt a gentle tug, his little daughter grasped at his hair firmly, pulling it into her toothless mouth. The large warrior couldn't help but grin at this tiny mischief, she always managed to make him smile. Shapogatâr rose rocking the infant tenderly. He mounted his horse proceeding somewhere in the direction of the South-West. Fangorn crossed his mind, that's were the baby was brought into this world, that's were they had dwelled for a short while...

They came upon a very small human settlement and under the cover of the impenetrable flatland night he managed to slip in and fetch some goat milk. The mercenary wouldn't shy away from stealing, especially to get sustenance for his baby. He could have knocked and attempted to barter for it, however the Orc male could only envision the faces of the cottage owners had they laid their eyes onto him. Shapogatâr was over six feet tall, he wore Orc made leather, his teeth were long and incisive and his eyes glowed in the dark. So yes for him, peacefully knocking onto a villager's door was indeed out of the question.

They spent the night huddling in one of the grove patches that littered the plains. Thankfully the weather was still clement. After a bit of fussing his tiny daughter latched onto the makeshift baby bottle and he was indeed very relieved. Thus, nearly a week has passed and they managed to survive on stolen milk and hunted rabbits heading in a spontaneous direction that inevitably led to the revered wood. Soon, out of the morning mist, the outlines of the Misty Mountains appeared and the rest of the day was warm and bright, the golden rays inundated the grassy plains, the soft winds swished through the small groves. It was very peaceful, yet after a short trot the half-Orc halted his horse. Both him and the animal snorted sniffing the coming gusts of air feverishly. The equine brayed nervously, letting his front hooves leave the ground. From the protection of the nearest rocky outcrop crept a group. A group of riders encased in sturdy, craggy armor that was dusted with a layer of road-dirt. Shapogatâr bent his frame instinctively, - an Orc group. Their Wargs stalked toward the lone figure as if about to pounce, the riders snarled and scowled in a sign of aggression. It was their territory, he was an outsider. He wouldn't stand a chance. If he had only known these lands were claimed by someone... The territory still a great distance from the Misty range he reckoned would be the unclaimed Wilderlands.

The troop's advance was ceased by their leader who rode forth deliberately. All riders were imposing yet this one stood out. Unusually pallor, scar adorned hide made him resemble someone who never hesitated in inflicting deathly wounds. His cold eyes examined the lone rider. He had noticed his appearance, garb, weapon type, expression... The Orc's head tilted sidelong gradually, his eyes narrowed into slits. His limb jutted forth in utter silence and the soldiers dismounted instantaneously, wielding their jagged scimitars. Some grinned lopsidedly at the half-blood, there were ten against one. The mercenary leaped off positioning his horse sidelong so when he hid his tiny bundle in the long grass the hungry predators wouldn't detect it. Then he gripped his weapon at the ready.

The fight was brutal, draining and bloody. They swung to mangle, to dismember, to kill. Their clotted blood strewn weapons swung swiftly and with great force, yet he ward off all the onsets inflicting sharp cuts in his turn. Not by chance this was Shapogatâr's occupation, he was indeed very skilled. Various warlords paid him to fight their wars. Another swish of his serrated blade and the last attacker received a lengthy anfractuous scar along the entire length of his arm. Ink black shone in the Sun as the Orc howled pitifully clutching his disabled limb. The entire troop was doubled on the black, trampled grass as the half-blood wiped the sweat of his brow awaiting the leader's reaction.

Not detecting the Pale Orc's whereabouts the mercenary spun towards where his horse was last and his gaze landed onto what he grudgingly anticipated, the animal had bolted long ago. But that wasn't what horrified him. He turned to see the massive arm of the leader keeping hold of his precious daughter. Shapogatâr leapt forth swinging his bloody weapon, the large Orc sidestepped the left arm was held up at the half-blood. The limb severed at the forearm was replaced with a prong that now poised at his throat. The chilled glower warned him to stay put. Shapogatâr stood clutching the hilt as Azog shifted the infant unwrapping the rounded bundle inquisitively. The lone rider kept hold of something dearly before he faced his underlings and that didn't escape his sharp eye. Removing the rags let his gaze fall onto a human child. The baby yawned and blinked then her sleepy gaze focused onto the strange male that wasn't her father. Her ember eyes grew widened then to his shock her tiny lips stretched into a toothless grin. Azog frowned deeply, he expected anyone and anything to be instilled with utter fear at his very sight. The girl wiggled attempting to free her pudgy arms, then her wee palm plopped against his chest.

They say there is nothing like the trust of a child...

Azog attempted as hard as he could to hold onto a smile that fought its way persistently to take over his lips. He removed the wraps further revealing the baby's bright locks. The Orc commander brought his fingers forth to run through the soft flock with an unexpected to his large stature tenderness and so very carefully, she was miniature indeed. He let the grin to take over his lips. Bowing his head further the Orc male stared straight into her eyes continuing to swirl her bright waves between his broad fingers.

 _"Rimkaur."_ His deep, gruff voice lowered into a soft murmur.

The Defiler did not have children. He did not have time to bother with such sorts of things yet laying his eyes onto this doll-like, helpless and yet friendly human child imbued his heart with warmth.

" _Latub_?" He spun gradually. Shapogatâr nodded and Azog strode nearer.

"What of the imp's mother?" The narrowed, algid stare was fixed onto the half-blood's sickening worry etched features.

Pausing for a moment the mercenary thought not to bother and indeed, that was what she was to him now.

" _Gorun_." Feelings seeped away to steel his features.

The Pale Orc gazed over the infant once more, she was too young to survive without female's milk. He handed the child over heading back to his beast. A several of his warriors were prodded with the tip of his heavy boot. A few whimpered yet one did not care for the gesture, the shapeless form lay contorted on the stomped grass. Azog's brow lifted, he spun to flash the half-blood a sinister grin.

"Now, you have a Warg."

 **x x x**

Being accepted with the Gundabad Orcs that now occupied parts of Moria was better than he expected. His skill had served him once again, he impressed the Pale Orc greatly, replacing the soldier he slayed he was now a _pizgal_ , commanding a company of ten. The same fact that brought relief terrified Shapogatâr to no end. Now his human daughter will grow up surrounded by the Orc males.

The leader was quite gracious, and indeed the mines were vast. They settled in a fairly large stone dwelling nestled into the wall somewhere in the middle of the Northern passage. He had many responsibilities now and someone had to take care of the little Rimkaur. The Pale Orc was fascinated by his daughter's bright shock of hair and the word he whispered had stuck. Especially after their arrival when the baby was passed onto an Orcess. The female clutched the small bundle to her chest running fingers through the infant's tresses in amazement, she had never seen an imp with so much hair. Azog had reiterated the name and the young mother nodded in great approval, so Shapogatâr after all had no choice but to comply.

Her name was _Narbai_. Rimkaur's new mother. A black-haired, green-eyed gentle soul. She had just lost a child not days before the newcomers arrival and sulked hopeless in her cavern. It was hard, harder also was the fact that her mate had perished just a few months prior, she hoped to have some memory of him remaining and now even that hope had dissipated. Her unfortunate fate had worked out greatly to the little human's favor and the Orcess accepted the child just as if her own had suddenly come back to life. She set to feeding the baby right away retreating to the small round cavern where all the young Orclings were herded.

Narbai refused to look at her stillborn's body, she did not want to see the motionless face, dead eyes, she did not want to know whether it was a male or a female. But now she had a daughter that was very soft and plushy and best of all so warm and alive... The Orcess couldn't get enough of stroking the smooth skin, the soft curls... She'd never seen human babies and adults humans only from a very great distance so she simply stared at the child as the little girl clutched her breast hungrily, her tiny fingers made small, rounded indentations in the plump flesh. Other females took notice scooting nearer, whispering and ogling and very soon every Orc in the mines knew of the unusual newcomer.

 **x x x**

The tiny female sat on the scabrous stone floor with her legs crossed, she fiddled with a few polished bones, scrupulously attempting to fashion a bracelet. She saw some older females adorned with a few and so desperately wanted to have one of her own. Her thick wavy hair cascaded into a messy pile onto her thin shoulders. She wore a simple soft leather tunic her step mother had made. Rimkaur was just four. She hadn't seen much of her father over those years. His new rank kept him extremely occupied. However Narbai dotted on her shamelessly.

"What did I tell you _nardurash_?" Narbai feigned seriousness. "Do not sit on the bare floor. Not good for your insides." She walked up swooping the toddler with ease. "One day I want to see you have many strong imps." She grinned lifting the girl up to the level of her face. The Orcess let go and Rim's brow furrowed.

" _Nar_." She pouted. "No impth."

Narbai stepped closer shaking her finger. "You better." She grinned mischievously. "I want grandkids."

"No, no want to." Rimkaur backed up starting to pout, yet she held onto a smile simultaneously.

"Why not?" Her ma crossed her arms, her brows drew together in feigned disappointment.

Rim shrugged her shoulders. " 'Cus I need one uh dose to hav'dem." The tiny human pursed her lips in the best expression of fury she could manage throwing her finger into the air to point outside the dwelling.

Her ma could not contain a chuckle. "You mean a male?"

As the little one nodded the female swept her up swiftly once again. Giving her daughter a spin she held the child close to her heart embracing her tight as Rim struggled to wiggle out. With a playful shriek she had nearly succeeded now hanging with her head down.

"Maaa..." She panted. "Lemme go. I no want no male, dey eyes glue on me..." Rim's face morphed red from hanging upturned.

"Oh do they now?" A smirk quirked Narbai's lips. "Well, you better get used to it."

The scraping sounds of grave footsteps resounded the antechamber and Rimkaur had nearly bounced off the floor like a tiny rubber ball as Narbai fumbled to fix her messy, black locks.

"Daaaaaaa!" The tiny female leapt up hanging onto his belt. "You back! You back!"

Her father's weary face was instantly brought to light, she always made him smile. As he scooped her with just one arm her slender limbs held onto his neck, she brought her nose to touch his then ruffled his strands with her face. "I missed you da..."

The tall warrior embraced his only offspring tenderly.

"So did I, _hûnizub_." He planted a kiss on her nose. "You grew."

Narbai took his weapon as he flashed her a grateful smile, the Orcess answered with a coy nod.

 **x x x**

The mountainside was pretty steep and covered in condensation. They hang onto to the patches of moss, bent branches and roots slowly making their way up. Narbai hadn't let go of Rim's hand even though the stubborn girl wanted to test her strength. Twenty minutes on the winding, massive boulder rimmed path and the landscape had opened up. The little human's mouth fell open, before them was an enormous mountainous meadow. The females and their offspring spread out, each had a leather sack to gather blueberries and moss-berries. The fruit was used to make liquor and as small meals for imps in order to prevent scurvy.

"What ye waiting for. Go on!" Narbai nudged Rim gently while her step daughter gaped at all the colors. Her gaze fell onto her large sack, she had a lot of work to do. The girl dove into the berry bushes eagerly, more fruit ended up in her mouth then in the pouch.

The tiny human eyed this extremely bright and ripe red patch and darted toward it yet she wasn't the only one interested. Her pallor hand landed onto the branch exactly the same time as the dark grey one. Both children gazed up staring in momentary astonishment.

"I saw dis first." The Orcess held onto the thin branch with more force.

"Nuh, I did." Rim pouted, measuring the young female with her ember eyes. She did not relinquish the delicious prize.

They started a staring contest tugging sharply and squeezing the branch tighter and tighter until both of their faces were suddenly mired with bright red. Both girls gaped staring in shock at their red mush covered palms, then up at each other again. All at once they burst out laughing, poking one another, wiping their sticky hands onto each other's lengthy tresses.

"I'm Rimkaur." The human managed, panting through the laughter.

" _Bûrzkaur_." Grinned the tiny Orcess.

 **x x x**

Over the next few years she had adapted quite well to the environment, despite the fact that she was the only human in the densely populated Orc kingdom. Well, half human. Her paternity was well known, and her sire had chosen to keep the fact of her Elven roots hidden. The _Golgi_ tart blood was diluted enough for the population not to pinpoint the smell. Nursed by the Orcess the black-blooded quarter of Rimkaur's blood pushed itself forth.

Rimkaur considered Narbai her mother, however Shapogatâr planned to reveal more when she grows to be a little older. As smart as his daughter was, she had already began realizing how strikingly different she was from the rest of all Moria imps. Secretly from all, little by little, he began teaching her Westron. He knew that soon, too soon her life might take a peculiar turn. As any father his job was to shield her from anything and everything and the little female had already began to receive the unwanted attention from the opposite sex...

Yet what was to happen soon, wasn't what he ever anticipated.

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 **How cute is baby Rim? Charming that Orc already!**

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 **Black Speech:**

 **Shapogatâr - Avenger**

 **Narquelion (Quenya) - Fire-fading Autumn**

 **Nardurash - Little one**

 **Latub - yours**

 **Gorun - dead**

 **Rimkaur - Copper Hair**

 **Pizgal - corporal**

 **Narbai - Safety**

 **Nar - No**

 **Hûnizub - My love (lit My Heart)**

 **Bûrzkaur - (lit) Dark hair**

 **Golgi -Elf female**


	2. Him

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 **Let me know what you think of this one!**

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 _ **Chapter Two**_

 _ **'Him'**_

 _ **'The Final Masquerade' by Linkin Park**_

"He is there! He's come back!" Bûrz sped through the chamber grasping Rim's upper arms. "You must come with!" The young Orcess breathed out in one sitting, her features darkened from all the blood that flushed to her face.

"Who?" Rimkaur stared incredulously at her panting friend.

" _Durbûrz_. Ye silly imp." The female poked Rim's shoulder playfully.

The human shook her head at the Orcess' feverish excitement as the latter confiscated her brush and began fixing her coarse black locks vigorously. She'd rather stay in but Bûrz would literally drag her out by her braids if she would even attempt to refuse.

What her father feared deeply did come to happen. Everytime she ventured to the spacious common cavern something had transpired. The fact that Rimkaur was only twelve years old did not come to stop the potential suitors as all other females her age had grown and matured, nearly ready to bear offspring. Rimkaur however still resembled a child, petite and flat chested. Her bright, voluminous hair and her extremely pallor skin attracted those pesky males. Dwelling in the mines with the lack of constant sunshine transformed it to be as pale as lily petals, a high contrast against all the grey and black tones of other females. And a chance of having a mate unlike the other appealed to many males.

The young human felt alienated from her peers for those exact reasons, even Bûrz was on the verge of mating. Which explained the latter's excitement to see the aforementioned young Orc. It's not that Rim wanted to swiftly follow suit, she did not bear a drop of interest in the opposite sex. The girl simply wanted to be left alone.

The vast cavern was crowded as on any occasion. Bûrzkaur shuffled on the spot coyly, spotting the object of her affection she reached over behind her and Rim no longer resisted.

While her friend played a staring game with her brave suitor the human girl supported the wall in the corner attempting to seem as inconspicuous as possible. That wasn't of aid however as her scent and appearance stood out from the rest. A male approached stalking towards as she feigned ignorance. He drew the air in feverishly, his deep red eyes came to their sinister light appearing ablaze in the torch lights. His clawed finger poked Rimkaur's chest shoving the tiny female against the wall.

"Waiting on me, sweetheart?" The Orc's narrow nose trailed her jawbone and the girl's palms pressed flat against his chest as she shoved with force. His uneven, yellowed fangs were exposed in a sneer he leaned forth scraping her cheek with his incisors.

His face was gaunt, the nose pronounced and slightly tipped, the eyes and the deep-grey skin made his look resemble that of a bat.

When the instigator leaned close once more and his pelvis made a lewd gesture against her hips Rim's lips began to shake pitifully.

How dare he this disgusting, insolent scum..!

"Let her go!" The older Bûrzkaur pushed her way through the throngs shoving the male away. Yet he stood his ground snarling back at the Orcess. Baring her own canines she landed her fist into his jaw yet only to be backhanded herself. The force of the impact forced her body to flip and tumble the uneven surface. The attacker returned his attention to the human.

Rim steeled her features watching her friend's prone body. Her thin arms inched up the male's shoulders as a barely discernible arcane blackness flicked within her irises. The female's knee connected with his groin and the next thing he knew the Orc male was splayed flat on the ground. Blinking hard the assailant clutched his crotch howling in agony as Rimkaur stood over him clenching her small hands into fists. A deep and feverish inhale inflated her chest, it felt incredibly good to be able to do this. This feral strength that rose from within, she welcomed it. For a moment the male contemplated if he should snap at someone else, if the girl had been aided. All at once something had reflected the torch flames he pounced freeing his dagger, his face contorted in a humiliated scowl. Bested by a tiny female... The blade sliced the air with the fatal intention, the human dodged the blow yet the serrated tip caught her palm...

A roar that resembled a warrior's bellow resounded the chamber as this time Durbûrz flattened the male into the ground. His fists pounded into the grey flesh. Teeth flew, bones cracked before the caretaker had a chance to intervene.

 **x x x**

The corridors were filled with gloom. She walked this path many times and that's why she was able to find her way in an almost complete darkness, unlike most of her peers her sight and sense of smell was that of most humans. Rimkaur headed back to their dwelling compressing the wound to halt the bleeding the best she could. The deep-red liquid dripped down her thin fingers rapidly and momentarily she felt faint. The laceration snaked up her palm to end at the wrist, it nearly resembled an additional lifeline. Leaning onto the scabrous tunnel wall the girl's eyelids leaded, the chilled underground air streamed into her lungs in a whistling inhale. Rim tottered forcing herself to proceed. She came to an intersection of where the Northern corridor intersected the Eastern one and that's when she sensed she wasn't alone. Still watching the rivulets of red trickle onto her boots the girl realized, horrified to no end, that her blood must have spread her scent all over the passage. Emerging from behind the corner was a massive Orc and the tiny human's stomach brimmed with algidity.

How should she react..? She had never seen him so close. Rimkaur chewed her bottom lip clutching her wounded palm to her chest.

The Pale Orc stared down at the tiny frame topped with a shock of the bright, wavy hair. The overwhelming scent of human blood filled the onerous air drawing him nearer. He watched her closely and eventually her gaze lifted, lashes fluttered in uncertainty. The small female appeared confused. Azog inched closer and the young one stood still compressing her hand. Her neck craned tipping her face up gradually as she gazed at his colossal frame. Silently the Orc crouched ripping a part of her sleeve he wrapped the cloth firmly around the laceration. She watched him attentively and her lips began to twitch uncertainly, a curve of a tiny smile began to form. When the master finished she nearly grinned.

" _Narn_ _û_ _lubat Dorguz_." Rim blushed dropping her gaze timidly but the large male reciprocated the gesture with his lips tipping into a smirk. Slightly emboldened by the master's warmth the girl pouted.

"Father won't let me have a weapon..."

"Good." Azog nodded.

Rimkaur frown deepened, she crossed her arms out of the habit but wincing at her aching palm she left them slacked by her sides instead.

"But... I-I need one. Who else is going to protect me from those _fl_ _âg_ _î_ _tu_ if not myself?"

Azog's bright eyes measured her petite frame. The child was indeed bold and friendly, perhaps too friendly living amongst the Orc kind. Any other imp would scamper away at his sight.

"I will." His eyes smiled at her and Rim's grew wider upon that remark. She'd gotten even more confident gingerly lowering onto his knee.

"I made this." She beamed jiggling a bone and bead bracelet that decorated her right wrist. The little human gazed up and the large Orc's sapphire-blue eyes still held a hint of a smile. As lucid as the deepest pools of glacial water they canceled the darkness. She wished she had eyes like that...

Her stare traversed his scars again, down his shoulder and as if for the first time they landed onto the stump of his left arm and the horrid metal prosthetic. Her tiny palm extended towards the prong trailing it until it disappeared into his flesh. Thin fingers tickled up his bicep slowly, Rimkaur's lips formed a tight line, her brow furrowed. She opened her mouth pausing for a brief moment.

"He lives?" She inquired quietly. As the master nodded her amber eyes lit up with silent rage.

"Then one day, I will kill him."

 **x x x**

How could creatures both so different could have possibly known that they both will have to live up to their promises.

Rimkaur made her way down the familiar hallway. Her wiry arms were wrapped around a large basket filled with Warg fur yarn. Her step mother needed this to fashion her a new winter tunic. She'd worn that 'one-sleeved' one ever since the previous incident. Besides her growth had picked up the pace.

The Northern passage they resided in was the second largest in the mines, it made its way the deepest into the womb of the mountain. Small niches and dead-end corridors littered the walls seldom lit by many torches. She wasn't far from home so Rim did not bother lighting her small torch and someone's rotten mind had used the darkness as an advantage. Her basket landed onto the cold stones with a barely audible thump, she released a stifled whimper when someone's thick fingers grasped her throat. It was the same male that slashed her palm just a few months prior. An ear-splitting shriek tore her chest but he covered her mouth swiftly, the human teeth sank into his palm in return. The Orc's fangs bared he thrust her against the wall with force and Rimkaur felt the back of her head become wet with pooling blood. The attacker snarled pinning her with his torso he planned to enjoy this. His mouth gaped letting his tongue slip up her neck readying to sink his fangs into her now moist skin.

"Ye smell sweet." The Orc's chest shook with a raspy growl as she thrashed in his strong arms. Feverish wafts of his hot, fowl breath forced her into a shiver. Her muted scream iterated the corridor and her cheeks were scorched with tears.

"Shut yer trap." He sneered. "And I might consider being gentle." The male's palm dropped to her hips fumbling over her tunic.

" A _brîzbag_ of your sort ought to tug at his own cock." A guttural rumble thundered from aback and without expecting it the male released his captive. A bitter-cold trapped his neck.

"I-I... M-m-master... I... She... She wanted..." The Orc stammered and choked struggling to get the words out.

The assailant's feet left the ground, eyes rounded bulging out the sockets, the end of his life was the sickening sound of the snapped vertebrae echoing the corridor. The corpse slacked to the ground. The Defiler did not accept palliations.

Rimkaur peeled her back off the wall as dizziness took hold she staggered her limbs faltered and gave in. Azog caught her gathering the small human up. Torn sobs heaved her ribcage finally escaping with muted, hoarse sounds. She cried curled up to his chest. The child so tiny, so helpless... Compassion flooded his heart. Snug against his muscle her arms too short to reach around his neck Rim's palm plopped against his chest instead just like she did when she was nothing but an infant.

"Shhhhhh." He murmured with an awkward gruffness lowering his face into her locks. "You are safe now."

 **x x x**

Years had sped by and the human grew. She hadn't seen much of the master through the following years his presence in the mines grew seldom with every passing month. Something had preoccupied him in the distant, dark wood. Her own father had to accompany the king many times as he recently and once again was promoted. When she laid eyes on Azog it was always from a great distance and their gazes had never locked... She recalled a kind face yet now his scars grew more pronounced, his eyes became obscure, overcast by something profound. An unseen, crushing weight seemed to make home on his shoulders.

Yet every time she thought of master all that came were the kind memories. He had saved her life and honor and she was to always be grateful.

Bûrzkaur was beyond elated as her and her young suitor had mated meanwhile Rimkaur had spent majority of her time aiding the elder. She hadn't found anyone. A lot had attempted yet now she had a stiletto strapped onto the inside of her thigh for the inevitable instances when someone wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. The young human was aware that when she sees the one meant to be her mate she would be overtaken by the sensation - the mental and physical connection that cannot be overlooked...

Narbai had described it so many times...

No male in the mines brought her heart to beat out of her chest. Perhaps because she was only a quarter Orc or perhaps there was something out of sorts...

 **x x x**

"Hmmm." Narbai looked her step-daughter over pursing her lips a tad. She appeared to be plotting something. All at once her jade eyes came to light as she darted to the corner. The Orcess returned after fetching a long leather string adorned with Warg claws and canines as Rim stared with incredulous suspicion. Her ma set off on working the contraption into her lengthy locks. The dark-copper tresses grew to reach Rimkaur's hips.

The young woman rolled her eyes complying to her mother's wishes. "What's that for?" She sighed in defeat.

"Mmmmm." Narbai hummed happily.

"You think that a male will think me more suitable?" Rim's cheekbones lifted then a sarcastic smirk teased a corner of her mouth. "Ma, it will not work. I do not like anyone regardless..."

Narbai's forehead creased then she frowned deeper. "Don't you want to make me happy?"

Rimkaur spun lifting her mother's hand to her cheek she turned the slender wrist and kissed the palm. "I do ma... I do. But... No one I see forces my heart to wake." The human's expression grew saddened. "I do not know what is wrong..."

Her mother's long fingers caressed her silky locks, she smiled tenderly reassuring that all will be alright.

Unexpectedly, as always, they heard the approximating steps, her sire had returned from yet another ride. This time however Rimkaur stepped back. The human gazed down with a coy smile as her father's arm encircled Narbai's waist then slid to the Orcess's stomach. He gave his mate a peck then flashed a smile to his daughter.

"Alright..." Rim rolled her eyes. I will leave you two alone." She grabbed her cloak and strode out briskly heading to _Foshâlob's_ chamber. The elder 's ought to be busy today.

 **x x x**

 _A several months later_

Rimkaur rested in Fosh's cavern, a random imp in her lap fiddled with the Warg's claw string entwined in her tresses. A several tiny rascals always flocked to the elder's chamber and the human was more than happy to entertain the troublemakers.

Lifting her gaze it landed onto her father. About to smile Rim simply straightened, something in his eyes had halted the happy gesture.

They sat alone in the narrow and murky dead-end corridor. Rimkaur glared into the ground fiddling with a thin bone someone had tossed out. Her cheekbones lifted as she clenched her jaws again and again simply unable to comprehend... This was completely bizarre, so unlike him, unlike what she had always remembered...

"Father..." She began. "I-I... What can I possibly accomplish..? Why me..?" Tears began to tweak her darkening eyes.

Shapogatâr's stare examined the rugged stone floor. He didn't favor the thought one bit however one possibility alleviated the worry... She'd have a chance to have a different life.

 **x x x**

Azog's body rested against the deteriorating rock wall. The abandoned fortress was vast and he could always find a place to be alone. The broad fingers clenched around a leather flask as he swigged the fiery liquid. All at once his ice-blue alit, his head rotated in the counter clockwise motion loosening his muscles. Just as the young human noted the tattoo scars did appear more distinct, his features were overcome with an unknown obsession. The arcane force that loomed over the fortress loomed over his mind as well. The Pale Orc lifted his prosthetic examining the deadly metal tip as if seeing it for the first time. An enraged scowl had contorted his already grim features forcing his lips to vibrate. Azog dropped his head back swigging the remnants of the liquor he tossed the empty pouch aside furiously. His massive body twitched straightening gradually as it came to life as a stone giant who lay dormant for centuries. His blood boiled with the renewed desire for vengeance yet he was under more than just an obligation. He needed someone. Someone inconspicuous. Someone who could get very close.

"Shapogatâr." He bellowed.

The former mercenary dared to gaze up at his master his brow knit, his lips parted searching for words.

"Master... She is just a girl, she can't even protect herself..." His head tilted downward in the sign of respect.

Azog's algid eyes glowered. "Loyal to Orc yet bearing the appearance of a full-blooded human."

Was there a point to argue with his king even if he appeared overcome with insanity. The half-blood's thoughts ran mad as his knuckles turned white clutching the hilt.

As the master's stare continued to burn through him Shapogatâr nodded curtly heading beneath to the Warg pen.

 **x x x**

The young woman recalled then what she had said eight years ago, she remembered what she had promised unknowingly. She would kill him, she will, whatever it takes. Rimkaur's face grew overcast. If that's what he wishes. She will exact master's revenge for him. She will take the life away from the one who was by his procreators' side when Dwarves attacked Moria, the one who rendered her master one-armed, the one Azog loathed the most...

And now so did she.

* * *

 **Little Rim's got a mission! Sounds dangerous. :P**

* * *

 **Note: Orc children mature faster than human kids.**

 **Black Speech:**

 **Durbûrz - strong, mighty**

 **Narnûlubat Dorguz - thank you, master (lit. My master)**

 **Flâgîtu (pl) - Idiots**

 **Brîzbag - horny shit**

 **Foshalob - (lit) baby woman**


	3. The Road Untravelled

**Hello** **everyone!**

 **Thank you so much to all of you who favorited, followed and commented! *hugs***

* * *

 _ **Chapter Three**_

 _ **'The Road Untraveled'**_

 _ **'Hilf Mir' by Rammstein**_

She wept kneeling by her pregnant mother, her forehead compressed the small mound of her belly. Narbai stroked Rimkaur's locks hardly being able to control the sob tremors shaking her from the core.

"Promise you will come back to me _hûnizub..._ Please, promise to me!" Large, stinging tears pooled at her chin dripping onto her chest gradually.

 _"Akh_ Ma... Do not worry..." She could master nothing but a raspy whisper. All Rimkaur thought of at this moment was that she will not be there when her sibling is born, she will not be there to take care of her Ma same way she took care of her when she needed it most.

Shapogatâr strode in gravely his features overcast with murky thoughts. "Ready?"

Rim straightened deliberately as if attempting to prevent the following from happening even if by a few moments. Narbai's arms encircled her with vigorous, desperate strength. She wouldn't let go... She couldn't force herself...

Rimkaur cried a lot that day. Bidding farewell to her mother, to Bûrzkaur, and when the time came, her father. Bitter tears scorched trails in their wake as they made their way through the familiar halls, squares, passages, all that she called home for twenty years.

The duo exited the ancient mines by the compact side entrance that led them under a massive, grassy hill. Rim was clothed in an inconspicuous thick cotton tunic, trousers, leather boots and a cloak. She couldn't keep anything Orc made, none of her garb or possessions. She had to truly relinquish her entire life.

"Remember, speak solely Westron." Shapogatâr urged.

"Yes." Rimkaur pressed her lips answering in Common. She was to travel forth, never mentioning her Moria ties. She had to blend in as if she was always there and then look for him, the culprit of her problems... The Dwarven prince.

Her sire had hopes yet as any father he worried feverishly and simply could not forgive himself letting her leave into the unknown. The half-Orc caught his daughter's arm.

"Avoid all Human settlements or campsites until you reach the woodland. But _do not_ enter. Follow the curve of the forest. A three day travel away here is a tiny village. The last stone cottage at the bottom of the hill... He will help you, he will keep you safe." The Half-blood's arms encircled his daughter, his lips compressed her bright hair.

"Be careful, _hûnizub_. Please, be careful..."

 **x x x**

Rimkaur travelled on foot. Moria Orcs had no use for horses and riding into a Human settlement on a Warg would be an enormous red flag. The young woman's lips were graced by a dark grin ideating the faces of the unsuspecting villagers. In truth she hadn't seen any humans since being accepted in the Pale Orc's kingdom, she hadn't left much... To think of it she hadn't met full-blooded humans her entire life...

At night she curled up in the long grass, barely sleeping, and in the day she travelled cautiously avoiding any presence at all costs. The journey was lengthy and draining, her small provision supplies began dwindling quite rapidly.

Her mind was blank. First overwhelmed with blood boiling fury she morphed somewhat indifferent. Could have at least delivered the orders himself, she thought to herself as her fingers straightened and curled forming fists so tight it paled her knuckles. However _his_ orders were the orders you obeyed. She could not risk her father's rank, the place he attained... Any disobedience would entail severe repercussions... He had a new family now, Ma was soon to deliver...

The green strip of Fangorn materialized far on the horizon the next morning and the young human breathed a small sigh of relief. Perhaps she can finally rest again under the protection of the foliage.

Unforeseen to her a small noise aback grew more pronounced as it approximated and her stomach became heavy at once. Rimkaur transfixed holding her breath, she drew her hood forth yet it was too late the trio had noticed her. Spinning away as if in distress she ripped a part of her shirt hastily, tugged at her locks and pinched her cheeks a couple of times.

"What ye doing here lass?" A hoarse voice inquired. It belonged to a weathered man who held the reins. "Didn't ye know eh, these parts are squirming with predators!" The villager sat atop a wooden seat that was attached to the spacious cart, the back was filled with sacks. The old male was accompanied by two younger men, perhaps his offspring.

"I..." Rimkaur gave the appearance of being short of breath. "My family... We were attacked..." She breathed out in feigned terror and panic. "Right there beyond the outcrop... I was the only one who made it... Alive..." The golden orbs shimmered with forming tears. In this state bringing up emotions was easy.

"I'm from Westfold..." She lowered her gaze meekly.

The three men exchanged looks, the girl did look flustered and exhausted.

"Orcs?" One of the youngest interjected in a disdain pervaded voice.

"Hop on." The second son grinned. She lowered onto the edge of the cart and the group moved on as the screeching sounds of the weathered wheels resounded the afternoon air. Perhaps this will work out well, she will be able to reach her destination much faster. The young woman released a small sigh of content. The air was still warm yet cooled substantially towards the evening. The winds picked up their speeds rustling her tresses and Rimkaur drew her hood snug around her face.

She kept on contemplating how fortunate she was while mulling over her future task. Anything but to attempt to forget Narbai's grief stricken features... It's as if she died preparing to journey into another existence...

That was until one of the younger males had decided to keep her company. She ignored their hushed whispers half the journey. The villager clambered over and rested close by her side. Without a word his palm decided to explore squeezing her thigh, it inched towards the junction between her legs. The woman straightened her back so abruptly it evoked a sneer from her companion. She stared at him in a combination of astonishment and unhidden fury. Rim slapped the palm away and the next thing she knew she was pinned underneath him on the hay blanketed cart bottom. She wriggled struggling to reach her dagger.

"Nothing comes free sweetheart." The male's lips drew back in a sly grin, his palms landed onto her throat. His hefty breathing caused a shudder as he leaned forth.

The little mix-blood had a response to that. Dealing with the overly eager Orc males in Moria prepared her for instances such as this.

"Ughhhh." The man grunted furiously. "Bitch! Fucking trollop!" He wailed. "She bit me. She bit me!" He clutched his injured cheek.

When the man's blood coated fingers peeled off his face the tiny, thin cuts where clearly visible on his sunburned skin. Every tooth left a mark as she bit it clean through; and now all oozed blood and spit. The man caught her tresses yanking them with force, the back of her fist flew across his face. Rim's little frame leapt off sprinting in the direction of the forest.

She heard yells and thumping of feet, not glancing behind her the woman picked up the pace. The large body of the forest loomed right above her, without giving it another thought and disobeying her father's directions Rim evanesced in between the three trunks. She burrowed into the roots of the first large oak as the voices drew near.

"Where've you gone sweetheart?" They leered. "Wait on us. We'll have fun." The duo approximated.

"I'll have fun." The third one spat blood. "Fuck her into the ground and then take a little keepsake to remember the bitch by."

An unforeseen gale force wind blew whipping the tree branches bending them to sweep the ground it chilled the air to the unusual low for this time of year.

The voices began to hesitate, they lowered to whispers then vanished completely silenced by the force of nature. The young human peeked to see the shadowy forms making their way back to the tree line. She breathed a small sigh of relief. Terrified of the woods aren't they? A little bit of wind makes them run for cover? Her head tilted forth she flashed a dark grin and spat onto the rotten foliage. Her first human encounter... Is that what she had to look forward to?

Rimkaur looked about. The vast body of the woodland radiated warmth, it was extremely humid, enormous oaks and spruces were enwrapped in moss, the feeble light of the setting Sun had no chance of reaching in. Her father had cautioned her not to enter... But, she mused, for whatever reason he said that, she preferred the forest over the possibility of being found by those degenerate vagabonds.

Rim had decided to move in a bit deeper, to find a place for a night just to be safe. That's when she heard it, faint at first, the sound grew in volume. The woman froze and listened. It was a cry, that of a young child, it carried from the very depth of the forest. The weeping was desperate, laced in pain, pleading for help. Her lips shook, she crouched fumbling in her pack to find her small torch. The girl clicked two stones together waiting for the spark.

Her body still pervaded with adrenaline she proceeded into the gloom with her tiny light without hesitation. She came to a start of a narrow ravine. Everything was incredibly still, yet the sound persisted and the human continued forward relentlessly. The darkness morphed abysmal as the faint sunrays vanished completely. Her torch had illuminated nothing but a small circle. Rimkaur could see better than most Humans do but not as good as an Orc would. She bit the inside of her lip in panic the child was nowhere to be found and now she was lost. The young woman spun in all directions facing only blackness in each. Her heart fell into her stomach when a branch cracked to her left, all she had to defend herself was her little dagger... At the very same moment the infant cry had seized, perhaps a wild animal had gotten to it first... Her heart constricted surrounded by the eerie silence. All at once a dark form had materialized in front of her, like a faceless ghost it floated, the inky fabric detached from the matching color of the darkness. Caught off guard Rim's body jolted backwards and she felt herself falling arms grasping the air frantically. When her frame thumped the ground everything went blank, she was shrouded in black.

 **x x x**

When Rimkaur's eyes peeled open seeing the dim lights above her she sprang up abruptly.

"Forgive me for the old, 'infant cry' trick." The low voice greeted her immediately and the human was amazed to hear the familiar speech.

"I had to get a closer look." The voice continued.

"At... What?" She replied instinctively to the cloaked frame.

"Lat hûnizub... _"Lat."_ The form floated near and Rim lowered her legs down to reach the packed earth. Hearing her pet name constricted her heart, it flooded with the recent, meticulously constrained feelings.

"I... Uhmm... Nothing about me..." She crossed her arms in distrust attempting to reign in the salty drops that betrayed her. She heard a smile from beneath the black hood. The mysterious voice had revealed herself and Rimkaur couldn't help but bite back a grin, it was an Orc female. The ink-black, pin-straight tresses framed her bony face cascading over the shoulders down the back they nearly brushed the ground. Her gaze lowered locking to Rim's and the human's mouth gaped. A thought, a guess fought its way into the front of her mind, those were her father's eyes...

Staring down the witch's lips upturned into a mischievous smirk as her long fangs gleamed in the candle light.

"I am _Morhûn_." Her head tilted sidelong, she watched the girl closely.

"Father never mentioned that I-... We... We settled in Moria..." Rim gazed down fiddling with her fingers.

"I know." The sibyl gazed up. "We've met, when you were just a newborn..." Her eyes glazed with the tender thoughts then suddenly her head snapped up.

"What a fool he is... What a self-centered, stubborn fool." Her cheekbones danced under her skin, the eyes blackened. Rimkaur frowned in confusion at this sudden rage. Those arcane orbs rendered her transfixed.

"If he had delivered the orders himself you would never leave Moria." The witch sighed. When she blinked her rage subsided and the black, bottomless pools had returned to the color of the deep gold.

"You felt this power didn't you? Felt strong, indestructible..." She smirked knowing the answer beforehand. "You will stay with me, child." Her eyes shimmered with a smile.

"But..." Rimkaur sprang up. "I have a task... I cannot go against..." Her heartbeat quickened as she protested hardheadedly.

The hex all but swatted at her. "For that, you have time my dear." Her smile persisted. "Revenge is not realized easily and besides, I need time with my granddaughter." The Orcess adjusted her robes gracefully.

"We'll begin in the morning." That promise was full of mystery.

 **x x x**

The witch wanted to make sure the gift she had given her will thrive and the human did not resist. On the contrary Rimkaur was happy, a lot of questions she had had been answered. He had someone who cared for her... Someone wanted her to be there. The skills she had acquired will definitely prove useful in the near future. However grandmother would not reveal one thing to her, why her strength wouldn't reach the full potential. Something unknown was missing... And that unknown couldn't be divulged...

She had also heard a story of her birth mother. Some things that father had decided to leave unsaid, to shield her from worry and heartbreak. A beautiful Elleth from the Woodland realm... So easily convinced... The one who had no use for the child bearing blood of an Orc... Curiosity awakened within however now, at this moment, she found herself indifferent. Her real mother awaited her return in Moria...

Thus ten years had passed, it was as a blink of an eye and time neared for her to continue her journey. Morhûn was a bit restless, seemingly aware of something Rim was not. The young human gathered supplies stuffing them into her pack. Another part of her life was over and she felt incredibly saddened. The life on the road lay ahead. On the contrary to her father the hex instructed her to head North, towards the great East Road.

Over those years the young human hadn't changed much, except the length of her hair, she plaited the tresses into a tight braid. Also now, her always open and friendly face had a veil of a seriousness hung firmly over it. They traversed towards the edge of the forest when something thrashed in the canopy and a dark form of some sort of bird swooped adown towards them.

"Go on." Morhûn placed her hand onto Rimkaur's shoulder. "Do it."

The human's arm extended curtly, she flipped her palm to face the bird and the feathered creature transfixed in the midst of the flight. It hovered without twitching a feather, only the beady eyes flicked up and down. The woman let go and the raven circled around landing onto the sibyl's shoulder.

"Well done." The witch smirked at her granddaughter. "You'll do well."

The edge of the forest was now just a few steps away and she sensed her grandmother's strong hands again. The latter spun her, their gazes locked and without words Rim knew what she wanted to say. Morhûn's hand came into sight from underneath her dark robes, she unclasped her fingers. On her palm lay a tiny engraved silver locket, the Sun, trees and blooms decorated the filigreed surface. Overcome with emotion Rimkaur's eyes inundated with tears.

"Thank you grandmother... I..." The words escaped her as tears trickled down and she found herself in the warm, firm embrace.

"For luck and protection, my child." The witch smiled softly. "Now go..." She pressed her lips tightly. "You must." Rim took an unsure, small step towards the tree line, when she spun to take another look`behind her was nothing but the gloom of Fangorn.

 **x x x**

His weathered hand extended over the table unraveling a worn leather scroll.

"...Black Speech." Gandalf pressed his lips. "An offer for bounty."

"What for?" Thorin leaned forth, a few strands of his lengthy, wavy hair fell forward onto the table.

"Your head." The wizard replied bluntly. Thorin's eyes dilated, his brows drew, he gulped and retreated leaning onto the back of his seat overcome with deeply unsettling thoughts.

Whilst the odd duo conversed, someone else had watched them from the tavern's corner. A dark form. Too small to be a Human male, too large to be a Hobbit, yet she was unaccompanied. An unmarked bow and quiver lay on the table next to the figure, as did a plate with untouched bread and cheese. All that was seen was her thin, pallor fingers clenching the side of the bench. Rimkaur had finally found her prize, but she did not find the information that came with it pleasing, not one bit.

* * *

 **You knew that wind wasn't a coincidence did you?!**

 **What do you think Rimkaur will do next?**

* * *

 **Black Speech:**

 **Hûnizub- my love (Lit My heart)**

 **Lat - You**

 **Akh - Yes**

 **Morhûn - Black heart**


	4. Stranger

**Hey! So I have promised this chapter will be longer! Were you wondering what she does next? Who makes an appearance? Let's see. :)**

 **Thank you so much to all you my sweet readers fro your support!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Four_**

 ** _'Stranger'_**

 ** _'Je m'en irai' by Dark Sanctuary_**

The Dwarves' expressions morphed solemn, the laughter and conversation had seized at once.

"He is here." All rushed to the door to lay their eyes onto their leader.

Their prince had strode in halting at the threshold he scanned his comrades with a light nod. His light-blue gaze then lifted swiftly bearing a frown directed at Gandalf.

"I have lost my way twice looking for this place. If not for that mark on the door..." He shook his head in great disapproval.

"W-what mark? Bilbo blinked and stammered as his brows drew together. "Impossible! It had just been painted last week!" The Hobbit rested his hands oh his hips with a puzzled expression on his face.

Thorin proceeded slipping off his outer coat and the scabbard deliberately when his eyes fell onto the compact figure of the Halfling.

"So this must be the Hobbit." The heir flashed a smile.

"Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins." The host wasn't sure whether to smile or to frown.

"Looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Thorin nodded to the Hobbit's petite frame as a smirk stretched his pale lips. The cheerful snickering resounded the room causing the Hobbit's gaze to collapse to the floor.

"I think Mr. Baggins here looks pretty agile to me." The unexpected soft voice put an end to the laughter. A figure bent to enter the hobbit-hole. Clothed in dark and inconspicuous clothing solely her fiery tresses brightened her appearance. The jaws fell as the female strode in coming to a stop aside the host. Bilbo craned his neck just a tad but faced with a friendly smile mister Baggins dropped his stare, his cheeks morphed to varying shades of pink.

"Thorin, who is... Is that..?" Balin's bushy brows furrowed instantaneously.

"A villager I encountered on the way here. She required aid." Thorin's deep voice was pervaded with assuredness as he passed his heavy coat to one of his mates.

"But..." Balin persisted. "Do you recall that we..." He sighed audibly his fingers fiddling his lengthy beard.

Gandalf watched with curious suspicion. Their secret quest was more important than anything however this was simply a young, human girl... He didn't have a desire to quarrel, more pressing matters were up for discussion. Besides, he'll keep an eye on her just to be sure.

"Well, master Dwarf, I do not see no harm in this." Gandalf addressed Balin gesturing everyone to return to the table.

Rimkaur didn't take her eyes of the elder Dwarf. She already disliked him. His distrust was too great...

"My name is _Ruakmir_." As the Dwarven gazes shot to her face and she let a modest smile upon her lips. "My father had always wanted a boy..." Her golden eyes lifted as she scanned the bearded faces.

"My family had been attacked and..." Her lips shook anticipating the approaching torrent. "...the only living relatives I have remaining reside on the other side of the great dark wood..." Her voice cracked, eyes flooded with uninvited tears. "I thought perhaps that the companionship of the fine gentlemen like you..." Rimkaur blinked and two large drops snaked down her pallor cheeks.

"Yes, yes of course!" Bofur interjected shoving his comrades out the way. His rounded eyes fixed on her face, he extended his hand. "May I... maam?" She flashed him the nicest of smiles, brushing off the tears she relinquished her cloak. As they all proceeded into the dining room Rim let out a barely audible sigh, that was easier than she had thought...

 **x x x**

He had almost passed her slumped on the roadside in the rays of the setting Sun. After leaving Bree the Dwarf travelled swiftly and she got held up by a few annoying drunkards. Finally Rim was on his trail once again yet when she caught up he travelled through a very populated area while walking in circles and she could not put her small knife to use effectively. She had left her bow behind not to have any visible weapons in order to resemble an ordinary, trouble stricken villager. Rim circled around in front of the weary traveler feigning a damsel in distress. However the Dwarven prince was almost indifferent. Only when she began to wail audibly he halted and came to her aid. The teary face, ripped shirt, scattered wavy locks and pleading eyes brimming with sadness must have convinced him to take her along. She was so close to her goal, she could nearly feel blood dripping from her fingers but then this came, the whole flock of Dwarves. Based on the information she'd overheard in the tavern Rimkaur conjured up a story about relatives in Laketown. If they take her along she is bound to get a chance...

Laying her eyes onto the prince wasn't easy, without ever meeting him she loathed him feverishly. He was the root of her problems. She despised him even more than she did their master for sending her away to the life on the road. Now, after twenty years she was so near the end...

Spurred by those thoughts the human suppressed an irked scowl.

 **x x x**

Rimkaur wasn't pleased that Mr. Baggins had resolved to venture along. She'd rather this gentle and friendly creature stay in his own comfortable home. He was too small and soft for what lay ahead.

"Wait. Wait. We have to go back." Bilbo's flustered voice rang from behind. "I have forgotten my handkerchief."

That is why she'd rather he stay home, Rim gazed down shaking her head. Before Bofur could rip a piece of his overcoat the human approached handing him a tiny embroidered kerchief.

"Oh no... I-I cannot." Bilbo protested raising his palms up. "It's.. It's... too beautiful."

"Please." She smiled. "I think you'll find more use for it than I will."

As she rode forth, the Hobbit stared at the silky piece of white fabric rimmed with crochet. It reminded him of his mother... Bilbo sniffled, glanced ahead for a moment, then stuffed it into his pocket gingerly.

Rimkaur had received a pony as well. Astride the animal her legs dangled way past its belly even though she was of an average human height.

"Ahem." Someone had levelled their equine to hers and the human's gaze shifted to the right. Her new companion had wavy, straw blonde hair, two short braids decorated his moustache. The Dwarf was silent for a while before his lips stretched into a boyish grin.

"Aren't human maidens supposed to ride side-saddle?" Fili nodded to her pose. "You know, your legs would go..." He chuckled.

"You shouldn't bother yourself where my legs are, master Dwarf." Rim shot back at once. "Women can do many things men wouldn't fathom." She stared ahead signaling the end of this conversation. That boy was way too bold and she wasn't in the mood for socializing, the importance of her task permeated every corner of her mind.

"Perhaps you'll have better luck." The deflated Fili levelled his pony with Bofur's. Perchance she prefers brunettes.

"Love yer braids." A cheerful Bofur nodded to the young woman's locks.

"Thank you... Bofur, right? Rimkaur nodded. "Yours are not too shabby as well."

As Bofur spun in his saddle to flash a triumphant smirk at the prince's nephew the latter rolled his eyes with a sigh of defeat.

The group travelled along until they were forced to make camp as the night descended onto the range.

Half the Dwarves snored, half fiddled with their weapons. Bilbo wiggled in his sleeping sack in frustration, he rolled his eyes at snoring Bombur, any sleep was impossible. The newly appointed burglar stood up, extended his arms above his head in a brief stretch then resolved to walk about. A sharp animalistic shriek had resounded the blackened landscape startling the Hobbit. The ferocity of it send chills up his backbone.

"What... what was that?" He stooped instinctively taking a few steps back.

"Orcs." Kili uttered ominously.

"Orcs?" Bilbo reiterated frowning deeply.

"Throat slashers. They always come at night." Kili and Fili exchanged mischievous glances. "No warning, no screams, just lots of blood." The younger Durins snickered as Bilbo stared in sheer terror.

Thorin snapped out of his dozing state immediately as the name of the race of his enemy slipped Bilbo's lips.

"You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?" The prince's glower brushed his nephew's faces as he straightened abruptly. "You know nothing of the world." The Dwarf leader strode to a rock that protruded the Earth near the precipice. He stood proudly, unmoving with hands clasped behind his back not as a living creature but a monument to the one long gone.

Rimkaur rested in the farthest corner of the rounded brow on the rocky hillside. Her hands were clasped around her knees, she hid her ink black eyes behind the wall of hair. The mix-blood attempted desperately not to interject, her mind drowned in fury. What do they expect..? Most of her kind is perceived wrong, alienated, killed on sight... What is left for some of them but to keep to themselves and to answer with violence. She had lived with humans for the past ten years... for some the word _Orcs_ itself equaled death and destruction. The young woman shook her head lightly, attempting to control her breathing she bit her lips with force. She couldn't help it however and her head snapped up to pay full attention as Balin uttered _his_ name. The Pale Orc. Azog the Defiler. Her ears pricked up. She had never heard the actual tale of the time when master had lost his arm.

As all stood in awe of their leader when the grey-haired Dwarf concluded his story Rimkaur's glare bore a hole through Thorin's back. He looked so proud and sure of himself, her mouth had contorted into a wicked smirk. He had no idea an enemy was amongst his friends.

Truthfully, she realized that the prince was exacting the same kind of revenge when he attempted to slay her master. Azog took the life away from his kin... Yet, abandoned for so long the ancient mines were on the Dwarvish agenda once again after they had lost their gold inundated mountain. Greed and self assuredness made up their chief traits...

What would any King do but protect his kingdom...

'Enemy was there first...' Her lips moved barely mouthing the phrase. No... Narbai was there. Just an imp at that time... The human could only shape horrid images within her mind of what would have happened if Dwarves gained access into the underground after the battle. Orc children discarded as worthless filth, their shrieks and cries ignored and then silenced with the same blade that slashed their mothers' throats...

Rim drew in an inhale yet forced herself to remain silent.

Her feverish determination was fueled by bringing back the thoughts of when her eyes landed onto master's horrid prosthetic. The childish rage she felt. He had saved her life, she worshipped him... This overwhelming feeling of gratitude and affection was muddled with ire, yet no matter the circumstance _his_ was the side she was always going to be on.

A long sleepless night at their backs the company travelled through an entire day till the deep, dark shadows have caught up. The quick campsite was erected at an old farmhouse in a mountain delineated valley.

 **x x x**

"We're making a long-term deposit." Gloin chuckled, throwing large handfuls of the moldy ground onto the chest brimming with golden trinkets. Dwarves' eyes ignited as they discovered the cave filled with treasures, a welcome feast for the eyes after being nearly eaten by the mountain trolls. The area turned up to be more perilous than they had reckoned.

"Where were you lass, eh?" Balin halted the young woman craning his neck up at her. His fisted hands rested on his thick wast.

"Looking for the wizard." Rim held his stare calmly unfazed by his pry. This was true partially, she did slip out quietly after Gandalf stormed out. Thorin was too hardheaded and not as intelligent as she thought deciding to camp out near the raided farmhouse. Even her standing behind the Istari's opinion did not aid the matters.

"Let's go." The agitated prince gestured out of the reeking cavern.

"Someone's coming!" A terrified voice alerted the wizard and all eyes peered into the trees around them when a sled came crashing through the growth.

"Radagast!" Gandalf sighed in relief. His light-grey eyes smiled at the old friend.

As the conversation went on all except Rimkaur were at ease. Living with Humans she hadn't forgotten the skills and senses she had developed in Moria. Besides nothing was like the scent of a Warg. A sudden sonorous howl shattered the tranquil landscape and she had nearly smirked at how right she was. However the presence of Wargs meant their masters were very close behind. _Orcs_ were close behind...

"Is that a wolf?" A deep crease ran Bilbo's forehead. Are-are there wolves here..?" His gaze flicked side to side skittishly as he made an effort to make himself even smaller.

"Wolves, they're no wolves..." Bofur urged.

"Who did you tell about this quest, besides your kin? Who?" Gandalf neared Thorin, his eyes narrowed with untold rage.

"No one." The Durin reciprocated the glare.

"The ponies!" Terrified Ori scaled the hill. "They'd bolted!"

No one had detected a large brown wolf creeping down the rocky hillside, no one but Rimkaur. Shoving Thorin out the way the Human freed her dagger. Propelling herself off a tree trunk she leapt onto the Warg's back. Her left arm wrapped around his massive neck the other limb rose wielding the weapon. Before sinking it into the beast's neck, unseen to all, she flipped in hilt first.

"Still." She hissed compressing flat into the shaggy fur. _"Gorunlat."_

Concealing her knife the young woman let the Warg's huge frame slack onto the foliage in the pretend demise. She was met by the astonished stares of the company. Meanwhile the second canine had emerged out of the growths on the top of the ravine, he watched the scene for a moment but when Kili drew his bow the beast sprinted away vociferating to his pack.

"Looks like they taught ye more than just goat herding in yer village!" Bofur patted Rua's shoulder. "Splendid job." He grinned.

"I think I might be able to help." Radagast shuffled near addressing the group.

"These are Gundabad Wargs the will outrun you." Istari sighed deeply.

"These are Rostgobel rabbits." A wild smirk stretched Radagst's lips as his eyes sparkled. "I'd like to see them try!"

The brown wizard hopped onto the back of his sled with the astonishing agility, the large grey rabbits sped off towards the plains.

 **x x x**

Her eyes held a blank stare as she watched the Dwarves bash an Orc's scull in. Him and his ride had tumbled down the rocky outcrop, the Warg took his last breath, his howl spread the uneven terrain...

Rim fingers clenched in a feverish shiver, she could do nothing for this one. The first of her kind she saw in years...

Radagast succeeded in distracting the hunters yet the threat hasn't passed.

As Black Speech resounded the plains and distant barks and howls drew near the group sprinted wildly once again without direction. The cornered Dwarves were frantic and Rim spun to land her gaze onto the approaching riders, inadvertently her eyes locked with the leader of the pursuing pack. She did not recognize this commander.

Yazneg's lips curled up exposing his darkened teeth, his ruby-red eyes glared with satisfaction,- the Dwarf-scum were trapped. When he leaned forth the spines on his armored jacket rippled resembling the scales of a colossal lizard. The sunrays fell onto something bright, his hawk eyes flicked to a figure of a female. As the Orc male barked out his following order he suddenly realized she'd understood him. The commander's non-existent brows drew together in a moment of perplexity.

"Right here, you fools!" The wizard's irked shout got her out of transfixion. Kili ran by tugging at her cloak and she spun following the company through the constricted opening into a compact cavern.

Thumping of hooves, a deep sonorous cry of a horn reverberated the plains as a surprise to many. All that was heard were arrows that flew faster than the wind and then shouts of agony. A body of a rider rolled into the cave his armor produced a screeching noise abrading the rugged stone as he tumbled, the body remained motionless.

As all the Dwarves followed the contracted rocky defile Rimkaur stood transfixed staring at the corpse. She knew this Orc. As an imp... He always got into trouble, scolded by the elders he'd pout and throw rocks. He was about her age... Now he had many battle scars and numerous rings decorated his blunted nose. The young woman's slender hand extended pushing his eyelids closed. About to leave she paused, pulling an arrow out of his quiver she snapped its head then spun disappearing into the rocks.

 **x x x**

His deep red eyes flicked side to side as his stooped frame entered the rotunda. Cautiously, the Orc proceeded towards the center cowering and twitching at every snap of the Wargs' jaws. The massive beasts lined what once was a center hall of the fortress. The white wolf rested afar from the rest, her roar resounded off the crumbling rocks announcing the arrival.

"The Dwarves, master, we lost them." Yazneg bowed skittishly as his gaze landed onto the colossal frame of their leader. "Ambushed by the elvish filth we..." The commander shuffled on one spot darting his gaze aback of him at the others.

"I don't want excuses." The Orc king's body came to life gradually. His grave footsteps thumped the stone, the colossal muscles rippled in the torch lights as his skin appeared afire with his rage. Azog's palm slid over his Warg's head in a fleeting moment of affection.

"I want the head of the Dwarf king." The Pale Orc leaned forth, his deep voice rose as the last two words left lis lips.

"There was nothing we could do... We were outnumbered..." Yazneg backed away aquiver, he felt his stomach constrict. "I barely escaped with my own life..." He gulped feverishly as his master's palm landed onto his cheek. That algid glare drew him in.

"Far better you had... Paid with it." As the chilled metal of Azog's prosthetic entrapped his neck overcome with the gut wrenching fear suddenly he recalled something.

"Master... there was a... there was a..." The commander struggled to produce words. "A female with the Dwarf-scum... a fire-haired _sharlob_..." He squeezed out eventually but sadly too late. Filled with rage the master let his words past his ears. Yazneg's slacked body flew to slam against a dilapidated column.

 **x x x**

The narrow, rocky passage had abruptly ended opening into a vast valley flooded with bright green foliage. Waterfalls cascaded lazily off the smooth rocks, the rushing liquid sparkled in the warm, golden rays of the setting Sun creating a myriad of rainbows. Intricately decorated dwellings, halls and towers dotted the valley.

"...Rivendell." Bilbo's eyes dilated in awe. The Elven city truly took his breath away.

"This was your plan all along, wasn't it?" Thorin grunted darting his enraged glare towards Gandalf. The Dwarf leader sighed deeply setting his jaws. The wizard's answer was nothing but an askance stare and a smirk. The group commenced their descent into the valley having no other choice.

The company traversed the narrow bridge that span over two sides of the bottomless rift. Their gazes shot side to side balefully in complete distrust as the lanky, brown-haired Elf floated towards them. Rimkaur however watched with the barely concealed curiosity. The hazy thoughts of the story about her birth mother came to mind.

The familiar sound of a horn and the clicking of hooves resounded off the smooth, tiled surface, Lord Elrond and his riders have returned. Their copper-plated, segmented armor reflected the sunrays blinding the frenzied Dwarves. The weapons were drawn, scowls instead of smiles dominated the weary faces.

"...No master Dwarf." Gandalf stepped in putting an end to the row. "He offers you food." The Istari huffed and rolled his eyes as all proceeded inside.

 **x x x**

Resting at the dinner table Rimkaur couldn't take her eyes off the lovely Elven female playing a flute. Her pin-straight, light brown tresses cascaded her olive brocade gown, bright green eyes smiled at the company as her instrument emitted a calming, beautiful melody. Did her mother looked the way..? Which of her features did she inherit..? A long sigh escaped the young woman's chest. Perhaps she shouldn't bother with these childish wishes and thoughts. Her mother did never want her in the first place. Rim bit her lip forcefully as her thoughts travelled back to the black-haired, green-eyed Orcess. Narbai, that was her real Ma...

The group left the Elven City secretly whilst Gandalf conversed with the members of the council. Thorin wouldn't stay. The Dwarven prince felt as if he had received enough information pertaining their quest after the Elven Lord had deciphered the hidden map runes. Now they knew exactly what they had to do.

Rimkaur kept up, she'd go wherever her target does however hardheaded he was. So far she failed to get him alone... Yet at least she possessed more detailed information on their plans.

These males while loud and obnoxious were decently friendly and courteous. As they entered the mountains, the Dwarves traveled in pairs and hers was the Hobbit. Bilbo had been fiddling with the straps of his pack and she had commenced a friendly conversation. Mr. Baggins had shared his concerns and fears. The talk went on and he had curiously inquired about Rimkaur's origins. The young woman gazed about, approximately a day travel away was Moria, her home she hadn't seen for so long... Her heart froze, flooded with nostalgia, it was so close... Yet far all the same. She couldn't tell... Couldn't cry on someone's shoulder about it. The only choice to always remain strong, day after day... The human encouraged the Hobbit to keep talking about the Shire instead until the little burglar got distracted by Nori.

Now she had a new companion and her glance flicked up to see the blond Dwarf. Rim supressed a sigh. Not again...

"I... Ahem." The young Durin started timidly. "I wanted to... apologize. It was really..."

"Don't mention it." Rim's lips curled up into a brief smile in an attempt of a quick resolve. "I have quite a sharp tongue myself."

Encouraged by Rua's apparent friendliness Fili grinned, however he was lost for what to say next or how to commence a conversation.

"You should smile more often." He continued eventually. "Your smile is pretty." His coy gaze dropped to the ground.

"Don't push it." The woman shot back yet the embers retained a spark. Fili nodded raising his palms. He got her to smile.

She knew who he and his brother were. But Rimkaur admonished herself not to become friendly. She couldn't let pity get involved. Nothing did matter, she had to keep on, had to accomplish her goal, her own life had depended on it... The large, freezing raindrops proceeded falling onto the group, after a while it started to pour.

 **x x x**

Damp clothes sticking to their backs, rain cascading in such a torrent it was difficult to see ahead the group held onto the ledge. Bilbo had nearly fallen then Thorin... She couldn't help but find humor in this situation, so many assassins on his tail and the bastard gets killed by the force of nature?

Yet not this night.

Their ordeal ended in a compact cavern. Rimkaur laid on her side facing the wall, her thin fingers fiddled with the black arrowhead. She couldn't get the prince alone perhaps if she had got close enough to leave a tiny innocent scratch... The poison would take care of the rest. The thought of the Orc hunters hadn't left her mind either. Whose orders were they following pursuing the group..? How many more enemies he had... She had to succeed before any. Fluidly and noiselessly she straightened her body scanning the room. The hum of snoring hang over the bearded men and her eyes fixed on the prince, he slept far off towards the exit of the cavern. The human stepped over the bodies unhurriedly, her tiny weapon tucked inside the sleeve.

"Hey, yer leaving us already?" A hoarse voice had resounded from the corner and Rim cursed inwardly.

She spun to put a finger to her lips. "No, Bofur, nature's calling." A shy smile curled up her mouth as she attempted her best to conceal her irritation.

"Oh..." Bofur blushed. "Ehh.. Alright then. Careful on the ledge." The Dwarf gazed down in embarrassment.

Rimkaur had exited the cave, crossing her arms she let her back support the massive rock wall. Beneath her feet nearly two feet away was the bottomless abyss. The air of the high altitude was brisk and thin and she inhaled hungrily. Occasional gusts of the bone chilling wind flapped the sides of her cloak biting her skin, forcing the goose bumps to traverse her back. Damn this loyalty and responsibility Thorin had given the first watch to the funny one. The human fought a smile, he was funny... And nice. She wouldn't kill him for being vigilant. Only their grumpy prince was on her list.

A several minutes into her pretend outing an unexpected shout resonated the compact rocky chamber and the young woman darted back in. All that was left from her companions was the bare stone surface rid of any sand and dirt. Rim gazed about stepping cautiously and when she'd finally realized the root of the problem her fist had descended onto the rugged wall. She had completely forgotten about their pesky mountainous neighbors.

"Fools!" She hissed under her breath. All of them, Dwarves and Goblins... Wrapping her cloak tightly around her frame she continued onto the ledge. There was another entrance not too far off.

 **x x x**

Bilbo panted leaning back onto the steep mountainside. He had lost all his buttons and nearly his life in there. While the whole group fought off the Goblins he was attacked by an odd, bipolar creature. The Hobbit blinked rapidly, his hand slid into his pocket grasping something on the inside it was still there and a sigh of an immense relief left his chest. The burglar continued after the sprinting company. Passing the large pine he saw a momentary flash of copper and black, next he ran into Rua. Mr. Baggins had nearly fallen backwards but her wiry arms grasped his tweed jacket. His mouth gaped then shut in confusion but she smiled and patted his shoulder. Bilbo could not understand how the girl reached there so fast, he distinctly remembered her not being with when they tumbled onto the Goblins' front porch. He met her amiable ember eyes. The fiery light of the setting Sun reflected inside her irises making them glow as the freshly molten gold. What an interesting color for a human, the thought crossed his mind fleetingly. The Hobbit returned a smile.

After the Dwarves vanished Rimkaur run as fast the treacherous landscape allowed. The Goblin cavern was massive, with many entrances and exits most of them however unreachable and deadly. She headed for the only one that could be neared without likely tumbling to your death. Climbing over the steep outcrop she scaled down the pine needle blanketed hillside deftly. Gazing about the young human shook off the road dust, that's when Mr. Baggins bumped into her. Together they followed their companions down the hill.

After the suspecting minds of Balin, Thorin and Dwalin laid off the questioning about where the hell the duo was all was well and cheery. Until when from the top of the outcrop the approximating howls of Wargs washed over the gloomy hillside.

"From the frying pan..." Thorin's jaws clenched.

"And into the fire." Gandalf finished the sentence. The wizard's features had instantly became overcast.

"Run!" His staff gestured forward frantically.

The group sprinted wildly and discovering they were trapped once again all leaped up scaling the thick pines. As the swarm of Wargs flooded the mountainside Rimkaur recessed slowly, concealing herself. Behind one of the trees the roots hang over the earth forming a velarium and she compressed into the ground. The human hoped she didn't smell too much like a Dwarf.

All at once the horrid sounds of scraping claws, snapping jaws and bloodthirsty howls had seized. Forced by the overwhelming curiosity the young woman peeked. The sight her golden eyes had landed on rendered her transfixed. A flat rock jut over the small meadow, atop it the massive white Warg stood maw gaped in a vicious scowl. Astride the beast sat _her master._ His pallor face contorted in a wicked grin, the glacial blue eyes surveyed his prey with unimaginable disdain. His tattoo scars were deep, dark grooves, even more so prominent in the moonlight, serving as undeniable evidence of his limitless cruelty.

"Do you smell it?" His muscled frame leaned forth as if to whisper into his mount's ear. "The scent of fear... Your father reeked of it..." Azog's lengthy fangs bared at his trapped victims.

His deep, guttural voice made Rim inhale aquiver. Momentarily she was brought back to Moria, all those years ago... But then her stomach clenched resonated by a realization. The bounty, the hunters... It was him, those were his orders... Was she so easily forgotten? He changed her life by giving her this task and now he took it upon himself? What forced him to change his mind..? Her eyes pinched and her teeth compressed her lip at once nearly drawing blood. The young human's gaze fixated on his face. How could he, how... Unbeknownst to her, her ember eyes morphed onyx, long fingers ripped the swathes of the wilted grass.

Overwhelmed with rage Rimkaur had nearly exposed herself. However later, even when the burning pinecones flew she remained concealed watching everything unfold with a blank, listless gaze.

The meadow afire the white Warg's jaws clamped around Thorin's torso as his powerless shout echoed the compact clearing. Perhaps if the Dwarf dies all will be void, she will be able to return home. Rim's jaw tightened, her nostrils flared, it was _her_ task, hers! He cannot take it away from her, when she was so near at last.

To all astonishment the tiny burglar turned out to be the biggest example of bravery there was attacking the large Orc soldier he had managed to save the Dwarven prince.

And then they came... The massive birds swooped in swiftly upturning the trunks onto the wolf pack, throwing the unsuspecting animals off the cliff to their deaths...

When Azog's livid roar reverberated the mountainous landscape and his riders sprinted off instantaneously to track the colossal birds a small figure had emerged. Rimkaur looked about sadly, into the black sky where the eagles has flown then up the steep hill where Azog had vanished. Her ember eyes flashed with the fire held deep inside.

* * *

 **What did you think of Rimkaur's pretend name she had given the Dwarves?**

* * *

 ** _Je m'en irai_ means 'I will go' in French.**

 **Black Speech:**

 **Sharlob - Human woman**

 **Gorunlat - you are dead**


	5. Forgotten

**Hey readers! Well, we are finally up to this point of no return so to speak. Let's see what happens. :)**

 **THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your support! :) You make me happy dears.**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Five_**

 ** _'Forgotten'_**

 ** _'Do what you want' by Evanescence_**

"Is that... what I think it is..?" Bilbo's awe filled eyes gazed into the distance at the proud peak of the Lonely Mountain.

The eagles have set them atop a steep outcrop that jut high into the blue morning sky, the entire vastness of Mirkwood was visible from that altitude. A tiny grey bird floated across the landscape chirping cheerfully as the Dwarves exchanged their hopes.

"Yes." Bilbo nodded in approval resting his thumbs in his pockets. "I believe the worst is behind us." A small smile has lit up his weary face. That joyous expression, however, vanished rapidly. She'd never said a lot, but the Hobbit was sure the girl would have expressed her thoughts at this point. His frantic gaze darted the compact platform.

"Where is Rua?" Bilbo cleared his throat professing his worries.

"Yes. I was just thinking the same thing." Bofur's always cheery face was taken over by a deep frown.

"We must go back." Fili's hefty boots thumped the smooth rock as he stepped through the crowd. " The Orcs..." His face blanched.

"There is nothing we can do now." Thorin's hand landed onto his nephew's shoulder. "We cannot go back."

"You know lads, I haven't seen the lass nowhere in the trees." Balin scratched his forehead.

"That's even worse..." Bofur's eyes dilated. "That means she was on the ground when the riders came!"

"They kill her or they... Worse..." Fili's hand clutched his hilt. "Uncle..."

"I said." Thorin spun sharply. "We cannot go back. Our task is upon us, we have no time." His cold blue eyes pierced his successor.

"We helped her enough if ye ask me." Dwalin crossed his arms. "A shame she met her fate as she did but it's not yer fault lad." The balding Dwarf nodded to the young Durin.

The trio of supporters lingered behind for a few moments gazing into the ground sadly as the rest of the group descended the steps etched into the side of the cliff.

 **x x x**

Rimkaur shook off the dirt that clung to her cloak, the cloud burst into the air dispersing unhurriedly through the already dust permeated air. Her veins still coursing with the adrenaline fueled ire she ground her jaws contemplating the next move and suddenly all was incredibly clear. She will follow them...

Follow the Orcs...

She had overheard the details about the Dwarven quest... Perhaps that could be the pretext for her return. Rim's thin fingers came together to form the tightest of fists... The Master will have to explain himself.

She was about to scale the hillside when a faint scraping sound attracted her attention. As light as the rustle of wind it started and stopped unexpectedly... She spun scanning the meadow once more, the fires were burning out, upturned trunks and snapped branches littered the brow... By the edge of the cliff, right near where the crumbling earth trickled into the abyss gradually, under one of the pines, two scintillating dots glowered in her direction.

The mix-blood took a step. The owner of the burning eyes, - a black Warg, trapped... He scowled in an attempt of a threat yet she felt the despair radiating off him... Her stare fell, can she leave him to die..? Was he someone's..? Rim's eyes met the wolf's embers one more time before she'd vanished from view.

The human have returned hauling a massive branch. A muted growl as her greeting she smiled hopefully, the wolf lived still... She stuck her tool underneath the fallen trunk as it's middle was propped on the other uprooted tree. This way perhaps, she could use it as a lever.

An hour later Rimkaur collapsed of exhaustion as the black beast was finally able to struggle free.

She was inundated with irritation once again recalling the fact that for some 'mysterious' reason her strength could not reach its' full potential. The mount of inky fur coming to loom above her brought her back out of her musing, the canine's upper lip trembled curling into a snarl and Rimkaur realized she did reek of Dwarf. She had attempted to scoot away when something plopped to wet her cheek, the Warg's scabrous tongue tickled. The human grinned and swatted.

" _Narnûlubat_." A smirk tipped her lips. "Now I smell of Warg." The beast's head descended to roughly brush against her locks.

"Beautiful... Aren't you..?" The woman marveled. She'd missed that, riding horses does not compare. Even though she's been on her father's mount only a handful of times. "And a female too." Rimkaur's embers locked the matching ones, she halted for a moment taking in a quivering inhale.

 _"Pafund."_ A light shone from the depths of her eyes as she ruffled the matted fur.

The human leaped upon her ride deftly, in a sudden rush of air. her cloak flapped at her back resembling the wings of a bat.

"Can you follow them for me, Pafund?" Her body bent inline the wolf's. "Follow the others."

Her mount executed the command at once sprinting swiftly into the dark void of the mountainous night.

 **x x x**

"Attack them now." Narzug hissed. The newly appointed commander stared anxiously to the master who stood rid of any movement glaring through the fog as an ancient statue watching over the woodland.

" _Shar_." Azog spun abruptly. "The beast stands guard." A scowl pulled at his grey lips. "We kill them on the road." The patience he already had little of was depleted, replaced with gnawing ire. He was near his prey at last yet again something stood in the way.

A crashing noise came from the depth of the grove unexpectedly setting everyone on edge. Something rushed through the trees and at once a colossal brown Warg leaped into the clearing. His snapping jaws inches from the Orc master's unwavering, furious glare. A grey-skinned rider bared his teeth wrangling his beast.

"They are gathering at Dol Guldur." He bowed without dismounting. "The master summons you."

Azog's rage peaked. He waved the messenger away leaping onto his own Warg. Grudgingly he complied this order.

No one had smelled or sensed they had other company. Rimkaur's Warg flattened herself against the ground as they observed quietly. Pafund turned out to be incredibly agile and they made the distance to reach the campsite.

As Orc hunters cleared out the patchy woodland they had someone on their tail.

 **x x x**

The narrow bridge spun the abysmal rift, overgrown with scraggly trees and bushes, the vegetation clambered over to the crumbling ruins overtaking the vast structure. The Moon left the protection of the cloud cover and the entire landscape was illuminated with an eerie, bluish glow. The remnants of the fortress emerged out of the navy-black darkness of the early morning sky. Rimkaur surveyed the surroundings. That's were the pack had disappeared into, this dilapidated stronghold... A line ran her forehead. She inhaled deeply nudging the Warg toward the bridge.

"Who's there?" A stooped sentry aimed his spear at the approximating dark form. Upon seeing the wolf he scowled in irritation.

"Take yer beast downstairs, like ye supposed to." He dismissed, while Rim dismounted on approach. That caused the guard's body to become as straight as a board, he tensed catching the scent of a human female, the dark-red eyes flashed from beneath the concealment of his helmet.

"Hello there..." He greeted hoarsely. The soldier haven't laid eyes on a female in months. And this scent was inviting.

"I'm here to see the master." Rimkaur replied. The Orc frowned upon hearing the Black Speech. It did not add up... She smelled like a human, yet she spoke their tongue.

"Which one?" The words slipped his dark-grey lips as he chuckled darkly. "What's he to ye?"

"I am the commander's daughter. Here to see Azog the Defiler. _Your master_." Her words seeped through her clenched teeth. This soldier wasn't aiding her mounting ire.

Another much shorter male have suddenly relinquished the protection of the shadows shuffling towards.

"Half-blood's offspring you fool." He glowered at the sentry.

The shorter Orc bowed clumsily. "Follow me closely, hide your face." _Hiisht's_ yellow eyes flicked side to side.

Hiisht had been around many years, holding different jobs, performing tasks and following orders. He had been very useful and gained much experience. Now his ancient age prevented him from hard work, but not from being able to boss the younger soldiers around.

"Take the beast to the pen." He spat back to the guard.

 **x x x**

They ascended steps after steps till arriving at a dilapidated chamber. A singular grand window gaped in the northern wall.

"Master." Hiisht's voice trembled.

Azog sat on a large boulder, perhaps once a piece of a wall. Hearing the footsteps a scowl had distorted his already grim features. He wanted nothing more but to be left alone, for once.

" _Mal_?" His deep, thundering voice iterated the decrepit darkness.

" _Lûb_ _p_ _izdurtab_." The Snaga lowered his head gesturing Rimkaur to do the same.

As the human had stepped forward Hiisht shuffled away at once without waiting for dismissal.

As the master straightened his pallor skin caught a ray of moonlight morphing his scars into the bottomless rifts once again. His cold eyes ignited with a silvery blue light defeating the shadows in the room. The Pale Orc frowned upon seeing a small form.

An array of feelings that chilled her womb when her eyes landed onto his massive frame... The sound of his voice, his imposing appearance... Her limbs weakened, her gaze hesitated, not daring to rise to meet his... Rimkaur observed his right fist curl inwards on approach, his other limb, - the same knife-edged prong... The Orc's very presence commanded fear and obedience and instinctively she knelt.

"Master, forgive me, I have failed you." She uttered, a hint of loss present, her melodic voice a shuttered crystal, something beautiful that was rendered irreversibly damaged.

"Failed me?" Azog scoffed hoarsely. "Show yourself, soldier."

Rimkaur's lips shook uncontrollably. Her fingers ran over the smooth rocks, grasping in crevices they clenched harder until numb.

"Was I so easily forgotten, master..?" The mix-blood straightened her body gradually, the hold of his charm has been nothing but fleeting. Overcome with fury she tore off her cloak. The fiery shock of the copper tresses engulfed her shoulders, the eyes the color of the tarnished gold reciprocated his unwavering glare. The tiny red-haired child he remembered was no more. Before him stood a slender figure of a grown woman and no longer constricted by the thick fabric the scent of her skin hit his nose.

 _"Rimkaur..."_

Her name slipped his lips and caused a shiver to crawl her back. Azog stood paralyzed. When his eyes locked the embers inundated with rage his whole world had seized to exist. There was an impenetrable darkness surrounding him and she was the light, the only light in the blackened void of his life. His heart thumped in his chest coming to life as a mechanism of a clock that stood still for ages covered with dust and cobwebs.

As he proceeded forth Rim broke the eye contact, looking into his eyes was unbearable. Her cheekbones lifted.

 _"Akh."_ She managed. "Rimkaur. Same one you banished... Tore from my family... To kill the Dwarf, remember?" She exhaled with a whistle. "Now, you take it upon yourself?"

The Pale Orc's brows drew as he as if contemplated for a moment. "Narzug follows them."

"Then, I will go with." Rimkaur had finally managed to gaze up. "You must... You must let me complete the task.

"A female with a group of fifty male Orcs." Azog's sneered advancing still.

"Should have thought about it twenty years ago." The woman shot back measuring his massive frame with her glare.

"You, are to return to Moria." The Pale Orc's eyes flashed, he was so close now she was washed over with the warmth radiating off his body. The sensation it evoked, his closeness caused her to tremble and her gaze had plummeted once more. Rim's nails dug into her palms leaving the half-moon marks etched deep into the pallor skin.

"I can take care of myself. I-I will finish this." The human spun abruptly, she'd fully intended to find Hiisht and the Warg pen when his fingers encircled her arm having a different outcome to her venture in mind. The touch was like a bolt of lightning driving deep through and suddenly she stood motionless breathing aquiver.

Unforeseen to the Orc the woman leaped up pushing off the crumbled rocky wall, her boot came in contact with the back of his knee. Taken off-guard the Pale Orc's tendons released the muscle as he knelt. He found her tiny dagger resting against his artery, blackened eyes burned through him. A dark smirk contorted his features, without an effort he twisted her arm, the weapon was freed immediately its bouncing clink iterated the chamber. His massive arm snaked around Rimkaur's waist haling her entire body off the floor with ease. She struggled wildly feeling his breath scorch her nape, her head jolted aback in an immediate, sharp movement, Azog snarled licking at the blood flowing from his nose. He bunched up her blouse and shoved the human against the wall forcefully. This was quite enjoyable to him, how feisty and stubborn she was.

 _"Hûmal?"_ A wicked smirk peaked a corner of his lips, the sapphire flame burning within his irises had grown tenfold.

Rim attempted to wiggle free. "Release me!" She hissed exasperated.

Her chest heaved as she strived to control her breathing. She wanted to run as far away if she could, yet in an odd way she wanted to stay. The sudden closeness of his body stole her breath away and in turn made her furious, furious at her own body for reacting in this way. Not able to meet his stare she watched the trickle of blood snaking his upper lip. When his fingers unclenched and instead his hard torso held her up all was a haze, her lips parted when she watched his eyes ignite. Rimkaur's thighs encircled Azog's torso to meet a purr vibrating his chest. He was used to submission, he expected it. The Orc wasted no time in running his palm over her smooth leather encased legs. Slender arms clutched his shoulders as her nails dug into his already scarred skin, they left welts in their wake. The human brought her face forth feeling his feverish breath on her lips, her palms slipped down to his pecks pushing away in a teasing manner. When his onset loosened all he felt was an annoying ache in his thigh as he was forced to kneel once again. Azog stared in a fleeting confusion as she stood over him. A shadow flicked past her eyes she grasped his chin.

"I said, I can take care of myself. Master." Her jaw was tight, chest heaved as veins pumped the adrenaline at a breakneck speed. Rimkaur exhaled audibly, her thumb slid up trailing the male's upper lip, she wiped off the thickening blood. Without breaking the eye contact she rested the digit in her mouth. Spinning abruptly she vanished into the gloom of the corridor.

Azog's muscled frame knelt incapacitated for a short while before a small smirk curled up the left corner of his lips. In the mirk of the chamber his eyes were the two scintillating dots afire in amethyst flames. This feral, feisty creature just begs to be tamed... Overpowered... Fucked. She had awakened sensations inside him the Orc knew nothing of, desires he forgot he ever had. And to think she was right there all along, right under his nose until he had send her away. The king's teeth compressed together to emit a sharp, unnerving sound...

The Pale Orc's towering frame stood straight as he inhaled sharply following her scent.

Rimkaur nearly sprinted over stairs and collapsing hallways. Her inner voice had suddenly came alive within her mind. _What was that?_ It gasped, appalled. _You tasted his blood... Are you insane? How will you ever be able to look into his eyes again!_

"I will not." She attempted to calm her mind, when a different side had interjected suddenly _. But you had enjoyed it... That viscid, salty, bitter taste... Yet so sweet! You want him. You want to be marked by him._

Shocked at her own thoughts Rim came to a halt. Her breathing hitched, jaw hardened as she covered her face in her quivering palms. For years she shamed any male that was bold enough to approach, she held the confidence to put them in their place but the sensation that flooded her over when she'd met Azog's eyes set her heart aflame. The deep, primeval urge drove her mad...

"Ughhh." The young woman grunted audibly. " _Lorzlob!"_

The soft echoing noise aback made her bolt forward and she'd nearly upturned the large-eared Snaga.

"Hiisht!" Rim grasped his arms. "Warg pen, now!" Before he had a chance to resist she dragged him down the corridor.

 **x x x**

"I told ye I smelt it." A lanky, dark-skinned Orc nudged his companion. "What in Angmar's name is wrong with yer nose?

"Yer mad." The shorter, lighter-skinned comrade chuckled. He fiddled with his lengthy, jugged spear, testing his strength. "Ther nuh females her'." His grin turned into a mock frown.

"We're stuck here in this reeking hole. No fun..." The third guard had chimed in with a deep sigh. He crouched by a gate from behind which the sounds of snapping jaws and growls carried over.

The trio froze at once. Hiisht had creeped out of the shadows followed by a figure a tad taller than the small Snaga. The sentries' eyes dilated.

"Cut my throat and bleed me dry!" The tall one gaped. "I was right!"

"Human at that." The shorter one nudged.

"You touch her and you're dead." The Snaga rolled his mustardy eyes. "Commander's daughter, ye horny fools."

The guards' eyes flashed still as the third troublemaker bowed pompously chuckling in an overwhelming excitement. Even seeing a female was like a gift from the higher powers.

"Where is the black Warg?" Rim uttered unfazed by the attention.

"No beast leaves without master's permission." The dark-skinned winked. "Yer shouldn't leave already."

The human unsheathed her curved dagger slowly inspecting it she trailed the blade with the tip of her finger.

"I might have to grant you your wish, if you don't." The irate glare shot up to the ruby eyes of the lanky guard. His lips stretched into a sly grin, he nudged his comrades. "You and that knife?" A sneer distorted his mouth.

As if a blow of the chilling wind had washed over all guards stood at attention at once as straight as they were able. Their gazes directed into the ground as the master had strode in deliberately. His massive muscles rippled underneath his skin, he surveyed the chamber purposefully. Rimkaur's panicky gaze flicked left to right yet there was nowhere to flee.

" _Ska_." He addressed her simply as her fingers fiddled with the cloak. Rim knew not to oppose the master in front of the subjects to avoid the severe repercussion, yet... She hesitated. He must have counted on that... Bastard. When Hiisht had skillfully blended into the shadows once again she released a lengthy sigh. Azog gestured the woman towards the upward leading steps. As she ascended gravely, unsurely, she sensed his stare fixed onto her trembling back.

"Thuh only female here and he's got'er." The third guard deflated slumping back down.

"Ye doubt it?" The second shot back angrily. "He's thuh mustuh."

"If she'd be my mate, I'd kiss the dirt her feet walked on..." The lanky sentry sighed dreamily.

"The only thing you'd kiss is yer life goodbye as she'd put that knife to use." His brother grinned nudging him. He grasped his throat with both of his palms feigning the terrible injury. The trio punched and nudged each other sneering and grinning until someone's grumpy hiss had put them back to their duties.

 **x x x**

He'd led her to what seemed the highest still standing part of the fortress. Steep, spiral steps ascended to a compact room. Rimkaur spun and without meeting his gaze she took a deep breath resolving to pretend that the events of a few minutes ago had never transpired.

"You forbid me from following your enemy." She paused with an exhale. "I suspect you will not permit my travel to Moria alone. As a company of male Orcs is something of a death sentence..." She sneered. " _Hûmal_?"

"I will bring you." Azog's limbs felt as if a powerful current was cursing through them. She was at his arm's reach...

His words forced her to swallow anything she'd prepared to shoot back. The young woman frowned as her stare met the ground yet again.

"Two days." The Pale Orc nodded. "Do not leave."

When he felt the soft gush of air as she spun the male turned, his intent stare trailed her slender frame disappearing into the tower.

 **x x x**

Spending hours in her compact space despite his firm order Rimkaur had decided to venture. She slipped down the staircase as noiseless as a shadow but she wasn't alone.

"Mistress..." Hiisht snapped back to life. The Snaga crouched near the archway. "Master will have my head if you leave... Besides it is better for you." The short Orc sighed. "Better _he_ thinks of you... Better he does not notice much..."

Rim sighed and descended onto the last step beside her guardian. She sat motionless for quite a while.

"Who do you speak of Hiisht?" She commenced staring at the fingers clasped in front of her.

"Tha mastuh we all serve." The Orc retorted.

"Azog is the master."

"I shedn't be sayin' nothing, mistress..." A soft quiver crawled up the Snaga's back. "The Master serves the One. The dark power that brings war upon our enemies." Hiisht's eyes flicked nervously, he was sure she knew. He had revealed way too much already. However, the old Orc believed she must be protected. A young and innocent creature like her... He had known her father when she was just an imp.

"Where is this _master_?" Rim's voice lowered instinctively.

"Everywhere." Hiisht uttered ominously.

Contemplating his words she connected the dots quickly. The change she'd seen as a young girl. Things she could never understand or refused to believe. That _master_ had something to do with it... He is the one responsible for it. The rot that took over Azog's mind. The realization evoked a sigh and a shudder. For years she thought of the reason, the culprit... She refused to believe the one she worshiped and respected was at fault. Who was _the One_... She had to find out.

"Do not worry," Rim smiled, patting the Snaga's shoulder. "I will obey his orders."

 **x x x**

Hiisht slept peacefully as she covered his small body with a pelt. His breathing was low and steady. Rimkaur had slipped a sleeping tincture into his drink.

Cautiously she proceeded along the darkened corridors, steps, arches. The twisted, thorned bushes were taking over the crumbling walls as nature claimed what was hers to begin with.

Hearing distant voices and a scuffle echoing close she slipped around the corner. The corridor ended in a courtyard, decorated with a tall archway, a bridge span the bottomless pit. Rimkaur stepped into the open relinquishing the concealment of the mirk. She gazed up, her pallor skin caught the silvery light as she marveled at the large, bright stars. The massive arcane shadow spread out at once engulfing the space forcing her to back up in shock and terror. She'd nearly sidestepped to tumble into the darkness.

"What pity." The raucous hiss iterated the vast opening. "Death awaits you soon."

Rimkaur gulped staring up, she didn't know where to focus her glare. The eerie entity chilled the air forcing her to tremble uncontrollably. She summoned her courage, her fists balled at her sides.

"Let him go!" Rimkaur demanded through her teeth.

Something akin to a chuckle emitted the mirky blackness. "How sweet." The shadowy form travelled into another corner fluidly. "You mirror it."

"You must... Let him go!" The young woman persisted striving to stomp her confusion and fear. "Lead your own armies."

Another laugh-like noise left the darkness of the Shadow, it slithered closer, its tentacles swirled around her. "Silly human." The hiss feigned pity. "You will bleed pure sorrow. Your tears will feed the blackened void of this world when I'm done with it." The dark master swished through the entire courtyard as his fleshless form produced an eerie noise, the cloud tightened around Rimkaur once again forcing the air to deflate her lungs.

"If mortal flesh was one of my attributes _sharlob_ ," The blackness became nearly impenetrable. "You'd be a slave chained at my feet, ready for the every, twisted, whim." Rimkaur was gasping for breath, her lids had become weary and her entire body seemed to be filled with lead instead of blood. Something algid grasped her arm roughly, it haled her out of the murk and suddenly she saw stars again, the air was cold but no longer stifling. An enraged roar bellowed behind her, the shadow emitted a wicked cackle as Azog scowled flipping Rim's slacked frame onto his shoulder. The Orc hadn't uttered a single word carrying her down the steps deeper into the fortress.

* * *

 **Black Speech:**

 **Narnûlubat - Thank you**

 **Shar- keep quiet**

 **Sharlob - human woman**

 **Pafund (Rim's Warg name) - Abyss**

 **Lûb pizdurtab - Commander's daughter**

 **Akh - yes**

 **Hûmal? - now what?**

 **Ska - come**

 **Lorzlob - Foolish girl (woman, female)**

 **Hiisht (the friendly Snaga)- name translated as 'ash.'**


	6. It grows

**Hello everyone,**

 **Did you wonder what was Azog going to do? Or Rim? :3**

 **Thank you so much to ALL of you dear readers for your support!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Six_**

 ** _'It grows'_**

 ** _'Amour' by Rammstein_**

Her slacked frame brushed against his muscled back as he carried her stepping quickly and with purpose. The Orc grumbled indistinctly, she drifted in and out of consciousness. When Rim finally came to, her limbs detected softness and for a moment she couldn't think of were she was, everything a daze of swift movement in the looming darkness... Thumping of a large heart resonated into her ribcage, she was draped over the back of a mount. The human twitched attempting to twist her body so that her eyes could land onto her companion. She didn't really have to, she knew...

Azog's hefty forearm rested on the small of her back to prevent her from falling. When she began to thrash with increasing vigor the Pale Orc brought his beast to an abrupt halt and her frame slid off resembling a puppet. The male dismounted immediately yanking her to her feet with a rough hale. The overpowering rage blackening his stare, his stiff grip send twinges of pain through her shoulder blade.

"What where you thinking?" His question was a shuddering growl.

"Where... Where are w-w..." She trembled strongly yet stubbornly presented a query of her own.

"Moria." Azog's answer was as always straightforward. _"Dâglorz."_ His glare continued to burn her.

 _"Dâg narizg."_ Rimkaur's lips contorted in a scoff. "It had been twenty years I left home." She crossed her arms in indignation. Enraged in her turn she looked up meeting his glower in defiance.

"You are going to Moria." The Pale Orc's order was final.

"Will _you_ stay?" A sudden softness peaked in her voice, her arms slacked by her sides. The Orc's jaws came together in a grit, his stare fell to the ground as he receded sans an answer. Approaching the still white beast he untied a large bundle of furs. Gathering a few thick branches he constructed a crude but spacious tent. The night was to be cold and building the fire in the plains wasn't advisable.

Rimkaur sat clutching a small pelt, while the male shared the few limited rations he'd brought. He was silent, solely his eyes attested to the persistent thoughts as his stare flicked to her small frame frequently. Rim longed for a conversation. She wanted him to mouth the words, to receive a formal explanation. Her stomach chilled in the anticipation of his reaction, the human took in a hitching breath, she saw his ears twitch at that light movement, there was no turning back. The kind master she recalled, the one that saved her life wasn't there, instead there was this bloodthirsty, broody, terrifying Orc. Yet Rimkaur could not help the warmth taking her stomach every time she sensed his eyes on her. She swallowed and exhaled. The culprit of it all, - the blackened shadow that nearly stifled her to death...

"W-w-what will I do in Moria?" She began with a banal question.

She saw his cheekbones move up and down as he tensed, Azog was silent for a few moments. "What do I know... Find a mate... Bear imps." An odd expression crossed his grim features, the corner of his upper lip pulled up, the stare blackened a degree.

Rimkaur ignored the comment. "You expect me to just live my life as those years were nothing but a dream?" Her stiff back straightened as if at attention. "I haven't seen my family so long and now..." The woman didn't have a chance to finish.

"Your sire resides in Gundabad." Azog let out the words as a matter of fact, yet the revelation forced Rim to jolt as if propelled by a hidden spring. Her pelt slipped off, now she was oblivious to the frigid temperatures.

"They are in Gundabad..?" She echoed when her lips had started to tremble. "You dare..!" Rimkaur's teeth compressed and gritted.

"You take happiness away from me. Now, I am supposed to pretend as if nothing had ever transpired..?" The human swallowed hard, her voice rose tremendously. "I am not going to Moria!"

Azog's steely gaze flicked up, a hint of something hidden passed inside the icy orbs, he straightened deliberately and trembling Rim had started to retreat. "I don't have to listen to you." Her cheekbones lifted. "Don't have to obey you." As blood in the water blackness took over, coloring her irises until there was nothing but bottomless darkness. The male paused in confusion for just a moment...

Azog's light grey lips morphed into a tight line. His muscled limb extended toward her upper arm, the wintery chill of his eyes scorched her causing a hitch in her breathing. But the human shook her head still receding. The Orc's large stature did not prevent him from being agile and her arm was nearly caught in the trap of his grip. Rim furthered her retreat backtracking towards the black beast. Azog pounced again, she was nimb however eluding the grasp. Except the tip of her boot had caught between small, firmly rooted rocks and she tumbled backwards.

A shocked gasp propelled itself out of her throat, the air being so chill she did not sense a thing... Rimkaur lifted her wrist to see the steam emit from the wide trickle of blood, it flowed freely coloring her forearm in darkened red. The tip of a rock punctured the skin nearly clean through the limb.

"Let me see." Azog let out hoarsely.

Transported twenty eight years back instantly, her eyes had welled up with tears. She shook her head vigorously, warding off the thought incursion.

"Come." He insisted in a low guttural whisper.

But Rimkaur was also stubborn, with a deep shuddering breath she stepped even further biting her lips in the adrenaline induced fever. The Orc's head cocked sidelong, a smirk tipped his mouth.

"Don't want to bleed to death." He hasn't abandoned his onset as she quivered backing into a tree. "Didn't you know how Orcs stop the bleeding?"

Rim frowned for a fleeting moment, but in realization her eyes shot wide. "No, No, No... I'm not... I am not letting... Letting you..." Dizziness had descended causing her to blink hard and swivel.

"No..."

He caught her attempting to struggle feebly, and held in a vice-like grip in his lap. Her, a wild animal, thrashing, panting in an insane strive, refusing to be subdued. Her hot blood flowed and splattered staining her black tunic in dark red spatters. Rim watched through the haze as he lifted her injured arm with untold tenderness, her chest heaved, she was spent not being able to protest any longer... His rough tongue lapped the blood. He compressed the cut, then clamped it tightly with a gentle tug of his lips. Hers parted with a soft gasp, lids felt heavy as if leaded, a warm wave of repose flooded over. Rim's eyes flicked to gold as they shut slowly when she slipped into unconsciousness.

The female's head fell back softly, her long tresses were draped over the stump of his arm. Azog's stare traversed to her alabaster complexion, it contrasted sharply against her dark copper strands, his eyes were overcast with an unknown expression. The Orc's fingers unclasped her wrist slowly, the blood pooled at the laceration but did not flow anymore. His thumb trailed the thin but very prominent scar that snaked across her palm, it resembled an additional life line. The naïve, kind, red-haired child that he found in these very plains, the one who gave an oath to avenge his limb... The Pale Orc's rough fingers ran the length of her arm, when they reached her neck they slowed disappearing into her locks. His large hand raked the length of her strands unhurriedly until his fingers freed at the tips. Ruffling her hair made more of her scent waft to his nose. A sweet smell that brought back the memories of the late Spring meadows in the mountain he once called home. His gaze fell to her neck and the sliver of her upper chest exposed to moonlight, it glowed softly. Azog breathed in her scent deeply once again. He despised feeling weak and this female held something that rendered him powerless... He brought his lips forth, his smooth skin trailed her shoulder-blade compressing her throat as he sensed her slowly beating heart. A barely audible sigh left his chest as he rested her inside the small tent, he settled outside.

 **x x x**

The rest of the journey home wasn't at all easy. There were no imploring him to ride her own Warg, he did not trust her to follow. She sat ahead of him, clutching the snow-white fur, her absent-minded glare scanning the distant ridges. That morning she awoke with her wound tended to but Azog hasn't spoken a word. Even when the black volcanic rocks of the steep hill forth of the East entrance materialized out of the light-grey mass of the morning fog, he remained in silence. For Rimkaur being in the place of her childhood once more forced tears to flood to the surface.

They did not use the front entrance, entering through the lower Warg pen cavern instead. The vociferation of the numerous animals had quieted at once upon the matriarch's arrival. Their snouts lowered in respect and so did the balding head of the caretaker. Seeing his King caused him to nearly jump out of his skin, he was even more astonished to see an accompanying female. His aging eyes betrayed him sometimes yet when the duo approximated he recognized the half-blood's oldest offspring. The iron-shod boots of the master landed onto the rugged stones with a sharp, iterating thump and the human dismounted right after. Azog gestured the beasts to the Orc and the latter was shrewd enough to simply nod, the tension in the air was thicker than fog. The Pale Orc watched Rimkaur's tense figure slip quickly into the mirk of the gaping opening.

 **x x x**

The spacious dwelling was vacant and covered in dust. Alone in her childhood home she let the tears flow, there were so many she slid down the wall gasping, gulping the air in.

It felt so empty... Her chest...

Her little sibling must be a grown Orc by now... Was it a sister or a brother..? She stared emptily into the gloom of the room, all was in vain, her efforts, her life... Rimkaur's fists became incredibly tight. Overcome with rage suddenly she sprang up, her eyes flashed wildly, chest heaved with the two different emotions that entwined inside her heart. The complete opposites of each other, they came together to torture, to bleed her heart dry. Hate and love. Something almost akin to a growl left her throat as she grasped the next thing near her and flung it against the wall. The small wall-mounted torch reflected in the blackness of her eyes.

 **x x x**

Bûrzkaur tugged her by the arm.

" _Ska_." She grinned.

We are all celebrating, there is no reason to sit here and sulk alone. The young female would not accept any excuses. Ever since the teary Orcess burst into Rim's home and knocked her off her feet she wouldn't leave her be for one minute.

"Come Rim, please." Her dark eyes smiled as Rimkaur's arms slacked by her sides helplessly . Bûrz inspected her road dust covered figure.

"Let's go wash up to _Morrar._ You can borrow some of my clothes.

But Rim's mood wasn't joyous at all. They celebrated his return, yet they did not know how temporary it was. He will depart soon to lead the armies of the black entity, the dark master... Perhaps meeting death in the end of it all. Besides the master was the last person she wanted to see, his ignorance crippled her trust, her affection. She despised the warmth in her stomach, the weakness in her legs that came over her every time she laid eyes on him, felt his unwavering stare... She refused to accept that it might be the connection her mother talked of, the mating bond... The woman attempted to stifle the feeling with the dregs of her strength...

"Rimkaur..." The Orcess did not let up pulling her out her thoughts. "Remember how we used to splash in the waters, getting scolded by our..." Rim gazed up, sadness filled eyes alighted her friend forcing the latter to halt her pleas. Suppressing the tears she smiled tenderly embracing Bûrzkaur once more. She succumbed to the onset following her childhood friend to the dark lake...

 **x x x**

Rim and Bûrz entered the vast hall at the lower level of the mines. It was filled with Orcs of many ages, drinking, chatting, play fighting, they celebrated indeed. The Orcess wore her usual belted tunic yet somehow all that was available in her selection for Rimkaur was a cropped top showing a wide sliver of the skin on her belly, the skirt's side slits that reached her upper thighs. She felt odd yet it was very liberating after years of living in leather pants. Rim had also missed the Orcish garb tremendously, humans did not make clothes the same way...

The young woman ignored the heated, leering stares of the Orcs males they walked past. The black-haired Orcess wasn't bothered, the large mating scar adorned her neck. The duo reached a near middle of the crowd, a few younger females bunched up there and as they did someone had began to play the drum. The heavy, rhythmic sounds iterated the enormous cavern and the Orcesses leaped up excitedly beginning to swivel their hips, their arms snaked through the air in fluid motions in a seductive dance. Rimkaur stared blankly for a moment, then spun attempting to slip away however Bûrzkaur, coupled with another female wouldn't stand for that. They held the human on both sides as a prisoner readied for an execution.

Rimkaur exhaled and shook her head, she raked her tresses, pushing them back she let go. She could dance... Her step mother made sure she knew everything a young Human/Orc should yet she simply preferred not to. The eager males surrounding them began clapping, openly ogling the group, enjoying the view. Yet she did not pay no mind, she was in her own world letting go of her worries and pain if only for a few moments. The beat resonated in her chest vibrating her heart, the torch lights flicked around in a variegated blur.

Bûrzkaur nudged her suddenly grinning so wide Rimkaur stopped and stared at her friend. "He's watching you." The Orcess leered with such an excitement the human couldn't help but gaze about.

"Ughh you stupid imp, there!" The female's finger shot forth sidelong of the crowd where on a something resembling a pelt covered seat sat their King. Rimkaur blinked dropping her stare. She wasn't aware he was present.

"No he is not." She scoffed. "It's nothing like that, we simply traveled here in each other's company." She pursed her lips.

"I know that look." Rim's friend smirked, mischief on her lips. "Durbûrz looks at me like that all the time." She winked at the stunned human.

The Orcess, somehow, was beyond excited to match Rim with any male even remotely, and now especially their master. Perhaps the old caretaker did not keep his mouth shut and of course someone had to spread the rumors how he saw her riding the same Warg, the arm on her waist... But it wasn't what it seemed. The human ideated Bûrz squealing with joy upon her ever mating an Orc. She shrugged off the thought immediately, a vain smile alighted her eager friend. Yet a few minutes later the latter commenced grinning once more. Rim sighed deeply, furrowing her brow she shook her head and spun in the aforementioned direction.

Her stare landed into that of the Pale Orc and a cold shiver crawled up her backbone. His arm lifted deliberately as he made a gesture to come forth and her gaze darted about in panic. Before she could react in any way Bûrzkaur started her forcefully, the others around them noticed creating a pathway through. As she approximated with her heart thumping out of her chest she realized what he had wanted. That thought caused her to gulp, her stomach quivered with heat, her cheeks darkened, not that anyone noticed in this gloom. That sly bastard, he wanted her to dance for him. As the throngs closed in behind her the faster beat resounded the vault. No one appeared to watch them and she felt a bit at ease, better to get it over with. In their customs it would have been a major disrespect to refuse this gesture, with everyone in Moria as a witness. He was the master, he could do what he wanted. She felt betrayed by all.

Azog's gaze was fixed on her, his bright blue orbs scintillated contrasting the partial darkness. A smirk curled his lips inspecting her revealing garb. He leaned onto the back of his seat holding a large flask in his right arm. This seemed almost a challenge. Rimkaur exhaled audibly letting her lids lower, she let go once more as her hips began creating sharp half-circles following the heavy beat. Her lean stomach muscles contracted causing her whole body into waves, it all resembled a hypnotizing dance of a snake.

Blinking hard the sapphire flame alighted the darkening stare as a heated leer curled his lips. Rimkaur went on arching fluidly, unbeknownst to her she'd gotten near him. It all came natural to her, her eyes half shut her long locks flipped lashing her back. The human panted heavily from the rapid dance, her chest and torso gleaming with sweat. The master sat paralyzed by those movements, he watched her lips part lightly every time she spun, her damp tresses stuck to her chest, snaking her collar bones they resembled wild vines.

When she sensed his fingers travel compressing across her midsection she halted for just a moment, an immediate wave of goose bumps invaded the surface of her skin. Yet at once a warm, tingling sensation took over descending into her core. His hot breath wafted down tickling her nape. And then the instinct had flooded in, she resumed dancing, her body brushed against his unable to control the urge, that pull... Azog's moist lips trailed the tip of her shoulder, he stopped, picking up her rapid heartbeat. He really wished they were alone right now...

The Orc recessed into the gloom of the promenade deliberately, taking her with him.

 **'Wilder Wein' by Rammstein**

Out of the prying eyes in the nearly impenetrable darkness of the hallway he hoisted her up immediately. The scabrous wall abraded her back, her chest rose and fell as she panted pushing her palms against his scarred hide. No use, all the willpower had left her, she was dissolved in the insane desire, simply too weak to protest. It took her a few moments to realize how compromising her position really was, her thighs around his torso once again this time however not constricted by the barrier of leather. A raspy moan was what she managed evoking a sharp thrust from his torso. Rimkaur gasped at the stiffness already bulging his loin cover, pressing so tight into her.

"M-master..?" Was all she could whisper before his eager lips assaulted her neck. His tongue tickled slipping into her ear when his fingers began unlacing her top overcome with the feverish want.

"Master... No... No..!" She writhed at the sensation yet had resumed the protest again. But her eyes had rolled back in her head when Azog had reached his destination. His mouth sucked her breast in eagerly, and another torrent of goose-bumps rolled across her entire frame. It's as if the chill was bound with fire... She moaned biting her lips, the grip of her thighs tightened, the overwhelming heat caused by the pleasure of his touch spilled down her body pooling between her thighs.

"No... Please..!" She managed a last useless objection before his coarse tongue entered her mouth. Rimkaur couldn't stop whimpering, her breath was taken by the thrill his caresses gave her, it forced her to arch against his stiff frame. His lips pulled at her tongue and her head fell back... Azog grazed at her stiff nipples, his leathery palm slid up her thigh groping the soft flesh. His darkened stare on her the male pulled at her locks craning her head roughly. His mouth so close it was nearly touching hers, he licked his lips, the large chest heaved in foretaste.

"Rimkaur..." The simple fact of him murmuring her name provoked another moan to tremble her lips. Azog's mouth upturned into a smirk not letting his stare leave hers.

"You were always mine, weren't you?" A hoarse whisper parted his lips before his tongue slid slowly over her mouth.

The woman's breathing left her lips in shuddering puffs.

"I.. Master... I..." The words simply refused to leave her tongue.

"Azog." The large Orc insisted nuzzling her cheek. "Say it."

"Mmm what..?" She inquired almost inaudibly.

"That you are mine." He breathed gruffly.

Rimkaur's lips parted at the growing lust overpowering his expression. She blinked rapidly.

"Say it." Azog insisted as his jaw tightened.

Something inside Rimkaur forced her to shake her head. The Pale Orc exhaled audibly, his teeth compressed, hips bucked against her frame.

"Say it. Now!" He growled furiously thrusting his hips forth once again. He flipped the front of her skirt over, his palm slid over cupping her heat. Azog scowled at the presence of fabric covering her womanhood. He solved the issue quickly sliding it underneath the delicate cloth. A loud, hitching moan shuddered her chest, her nails scraped at his biceps as her upper body fell forth against him. The Orc's thick fingers parted the moist folds, he prodded the sensitive flesh.

"Say it." He persisted.

"Rimkaur..." He murmured heavily nipping her ear. The sound of her name was like a plea...

She couldn't help it, she couldn't... She gave up, gave in realizing that she reciprocated his desire, she wanted him badly. A several of his digits inched further, dipping into her wetness, penetrating deeper as they slipped against the constricting walls preparing her for more. She lost her breath for a few moments.

"Yes... I'm yours. I am _yours_." Rim whimpered desperately. She bit the inside of her lip pushing her midsection against the hand that was pleasing her. She was loosing herself, how good it felt. A grin of satisfaction stretched his lips as he increased the pace of his fingers reveling in her feverish, needy moans. She was very aroused and the scent of her wanting him inside her sent ripples of pleasure down his torso. A fervent, foretasting growl ripped from within, Azog's gaze traversed her neck watching her rapidly pulsating artery. He used his teeth to pull her hair back and the knife-edged canines compressed into her skin immediately to the point of breaking it.

"Azog." His eyes shut for a moment listening to the sounds of her voice. "Azog..."

Her fervent breath warmed his rough skin. Azog's incisors tore into the flesh with ease, right above the left shoulder. They broke the surface setting the blood free. A gasp of pain and then a moan of pleasure gaped her lips Rimkaur writhed under the firm grasp of his teeth as the blinding instinct coursed through her body. Her pounding heartbeat resonated to his lips through the artery he drew her blood from. He swallowed a generous gulp, his chest shuddered with increasing want for her, she was truly his now, this mark was for the lifetime. Licking his lips off the deep-red liquid his tongue resumed licking at her mouth, finding hers inside.  
Rimkaur's mind blank for a moment, all that she felt for him was now bound by the blind lust. The feel of his skin alone... Her wound throbbed with the acute pain, yet it was the pleasant kind. Every tweak brought to mind what this meant and what laid ahead. Her teeth caught her lips, eyes shut at the thought of him inside her.

More blood seeped onto the surface and Azog's mouth left her lips again enveloping the mark, lapping more off as Rimkaur rolled her hips. Her nipples brushed his marble skin bringing the heat in her stomach brim to the point of being unbearable. He could do anything he'd desire with her now. She was his, she was marked...  
The young woman let out another needy moan when he clamped onto the bite one more time.

Azog's blackened eyes met hers.

Perhaps the dark master was right, something in the unforeseen future stood to break their link, disturb their peace, erase the love...  
As if knowing, as if on purpose a panting rider darted through the corridor, the roar Azog let out must have been heard over the beat of the drums. Her partially unclothed body concealed behind him, his eyes flashed flames of such fury the soldier halted raising his arms.

The panting Orc took a deep, quivering breath "The dark Lord summons you." He paused cowering. "Pissed since ye left Dol Guldur, mustuh..."

Azog's chest heaved as his jaws become tighter and tighter, the left corner of his upper lip lifted in an obvious disdain, his eyes glassed glaring seemingly into nowhere. Her small, warm form behind him stayed close holding onto his large fingers. The Pale Orc didn't have to think, his mind was made up, he waved the confused messenger away and spun back to his mate. That was the moment where at once his eyes had lost the ability to see, an acute, debilitating pain had descended onto his skull, pounding in his temples. A dark presence overcast his mind like a black veil and all at once the hiss of the evil whisper resounded in his mind. _"You stay. She dies."_ Was all it said, but it was more than enough...

Rimkaur slid down the wall floating back to the reality slowly. She blinked rapidly then her brows drew. The inescapable tears of desperation had started to creep in... The entity was too strong... What could have she done..? He marked her and he left... To perhaps meet his death. Tears leaked out of the blackness of her eyes. Why couldn't she be stronger..? A quivering breath leaving her chest rose up in a small, barely visible cloud. Morhûn was far, so were her parents, who was she to seek advice from..? The woman's trembling palms covered her flushed cheeks.

 **x x x**

Bûrzkaur stepped across the corridor when the strong scent of her friend wafted by, however it was mixed with another now. Something strong and deep... A male. The young Orcess gulped. Hurrying after she halted Rim by her shoulders.  
"What happened?" She went straight to the point. Then her eyes detected the rivulet of blood snaking past her the human's collarbone.  
"Rim..?" Her lips parted. "Who did... Did he?!" Her eyes widened tremendously.  
All the woman could do is to give a barely noticeable nod.  
Dark grey trap of her friend's wiry arms wrapped around her as she squeezed with gentle force.  
"Are you happy?" Bûrz inquired carefully and Rim couldn't help the darkness that overcame her features.  
"Bûrz... We didn't even... He claimed me and then he... He left." Her stare fell into the ground.  
"He will come back then." The Orcess sounded quite sure. "For you he will."  
The human's eyes fixed on her friend she shook her head sharply.  
"I haven't marked him in return." She pressed her lips. "Perhaps it was just a whim... He is the master, does anything he wishes." Rimkaur's face contorted, she held back her feelings with everything she had but could never fool her childhood friend, Bûrz was like a sister. Her arms returned to hold around Rim as she stroked her long locks tenderly.  
"You are the strongest I know..." She whispered reassuringly.

 **x x x  
**  
She collapsed onto the furs that were once her childhood bed, staring into the black of the ceiling. The room was empty and dead quiet yet her heart flooded with emotions, an insane variety of lust, hatred, disdain, confusion and love all bundled in nerves. The persistent sensation of his caresses still lingered, scorching her skin. She knew sleep wouldn't come her way. What happened tonight was as if in a dream... She couldn't stop thinking of him, the thoughts causing waves of warmth to drown her body. Rim's fingers brushed over her bite mark carefully. Why did this happen to her..? The young woman felt as if she'd go mad staying there...

Her dark figure wondered the empty upper level of the mines till she halted by a massive door. In the impenetrable darkness of course her mind had to lead her there, to the throne room... Forsaking all the rules she entered the colossal vault heading straight for the spiral steps that led to his dwelling. The murky space spread in front of her when she ascended, not very much lived in, covered in dust. Yet knowing he was there before caused her to chew on her lip. She crossed the small corridor to the bedroom. The Sun hasn't risen yet, the balcony doors were shut. Rim surveyed the room in the faint moonlight, her eyes halted at the pile of furs. She approached pacing herself, extending her hand as if to pet the once live animals. The human lowered onto the pelts deliberately as if suddenly overcome by shyness, then she straightened her body laying flat on her back. The skins still held a small trace of his scent.

This is insane, she shook her head to herself, what was happening to her..?

Rimkaur laid there a while, nearly falling asleep when someone's footsteps resounded the quiet cavern. The human sprang up shaking away the slumber, ears at attention. Did the caretaker come here sometimes..? She could be in trouble, discovered here, on his bed... The woman gulped, chastising herself inwardly. Unfortunately for her she had no time for retreat, the grave footsteps thumped the spiral steps. Her eyes flicking nervously from corner to corner she burrowed underneath the furs as quickly as she could. The sound stopped halting right in front of the bed, then a weight lowered onto the pelts. Barely breathing Rim peeked from underneath the covers cautiously to see who had disturbed her.

* * *

 ** _Black Speech:_**

 ** _Dâglorz -Foolish child_**

 ** _Dâg narizg -I am no child_**

 ** _Ska-Come_**

 ** _Morrar- Black Sand (Moria's underground lake)_**


	7. Feral Love

**Thank you so much to all my readers for your love and support! :)**

* * *

 **EXPLICIT CONTENT MY DEARS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Seven 'Feral Love'**_

 _ **'Wilder Wein' by Rammstein**_

A dark figure resting on the skins not three feet away from her Rim's quivering hands unclutched the pelt, her breathing escaped in trembling wafts as if she was suddenly dunked into a body of ice water. That was it, she was caught. As if her answering the master's advances wasn't enough now she was in his bed... How frivolous... Yet all the young woman could master in reaction was teeth piercing her lip. Too late to retreat he had caught her scent...

The massive muscles of his pallor form came to life rotating his shoulders, Azog's stare was fixed on her face until she managed to lift hers and immediately Rim's cheeks reddened with a heated flush. She was exposed... She loved him, she wanted him... A faint spark of mischief surfaced in the Pale Orc's darkened blue eyes. Both of them hadn't moved any further and suddenly Rimkaur had forgotten the explanation she wanted to get, the words of blame she wanted to throw at him...

"Thought you ran off again." A smirk twitched his upper lip. "Stubborn child."

"I am no child." Her brow furrowed at once, Rimkaur crossed her arms, she was the boldest in opposition. "Stop calling me that."

Azog kept the smirk on his lips. "One tiny, mischievous, imp." He created a pause after every word to emphasize each one.

"Should have never let you go." He added with a sigh when her eyes had begun to flash ire.

The human slacked down in a complete shock at his words. She was truly taken off guard... Was this the apology she had been waiting for all these years... Her blood coursing through her veins in surge of emotion, her new wound twinged and Rimkaur's palm traversed to compress the bite mark instinctively.

Faster than an exhale he was right next to her, his smooth marble-like skin was the raging fire on her bare thighs. Rim gazed up, the pace of her breathing rising. Rough, large fingers traced down her sternum in a caress, it was careful yet eager as if he saw her for the first time. Azog's blunted nose nuzzled her flushed cheek.

"My, tiny, mischievous girl." He repeated with such tenderness it caused Rimkaur's emotions to stream free, her thin arms trapped his neck as large, burning drops flooded her cheeks. This was the embrace of affection, adoration, tenderness, respect, overwhelming love... A sigh of relief left her chest, she couldn't explain her feelings but she did not want to, she was happy, here, wrapped in his warm arms. She knew then, she will forgive and she will forget.

"My Rimkaur." The tone of his deep voice caused a feeble, needy sound to part her lips. Her stomach brimmed heavy with warmth, the inside of her lip was caught between her teeth. A building rumble send tremors down to his core, Azog's incisors grazed at her neck. Detecting the mating bite the teeth found each tiny indentation re-opening the wound. The golden eyes shot wide, lips gaped with a louder whimper. Tears leaked out when he bit into her again... Spreading her legs around his torso the Pale Orcs tilted his head.

"Your turn." His guttural murmur threw her into a shiver.

Her eyes fixed on the artery the woman exhaled letting the pleasant tremors run freely up her back. Something unforeseen took hold of her. A hot sensation, akin to a fever inundated her body coursing through her veins, it felt as if the entire surface of her skin was being needled. The bind of it all took hold overcoming her with euphoria. The female's eyes widened in realization she was able to pick up the scent of his blood. She could almost hear it flowing through... Rimkaur leaned forward, her teeth broke his thick hide with the surprising ease, sinking deeper than she thought she could manage.

The human licked the black fluid off her lips bending forth for more. The taste send trembling to take over her core, recalling the day she saw him again... The viscid, salty, bitter yet the sweetest... A bind of warmth filled her womb... She felt so happy... The male grunted, an awaking rumble shuddered his chest in satisfaction as her gentle lips came down again clamping on the bite. Azog pulled her away... The kiss was brash yet gentle, overpowering, possessive and filled with lust. His heart thumped heavy, beating out of his chest at her mirroring his insane desire.

Arching back as his mouth traveled down the front of her neck Rim opened her eyes and the moonlight drowned in their blackness. Reddened lips parted to release a moan revealing the sharp row. The carnivorous teeth still coated in ink black morphed her terrifying... The very sudden thought had taken her over, the long-awaited conclusion, realization... The hidden reason why she could never come to her full strength was...

 _Him._

Being with him she was an odd unity of powerless and unbreakable at once...

Could that be what grandmother...

Rimkaur's small palms cupped his scarred cheeks, trailing up her fingers tickled along the points of his ears, her eyes smiled when he looked up. Azog kissed her again, the rough palm traversed her thigh compressing the taut skin, he yanked at her skirt. Revealing her bare hips for a moment he brought his onset to a stop. Rim inhaled aquiver, just his stare caused her to wetten even more. The calloused palm brushed up her stomach, it cupped her small chest as she leaned into his touch.

Fingers of the right hand came around the upper arm like a vice. The firm caress delineated her shoulder coming to encircle her neck with a brief pause before they slipped into her locks at the nape. Azog pulled barely, then harder... Craning her neck he watched the tracheas protrude under the skin... A wild heartbeat pulsated her arteries at the growing anticipation. He moved in closer towering over her. The palm left her locks traversing down the spinal cord. The middle finger parted her, slipping back and forth. With a whimper she arched against the limb. The bulging stiffness against her upper stomach set aflame the insane desire that held her in its grasp from the first moment the Orc touched her... She wanted to feel him, touch the bare skin... How it will be like to have him inside... Her exhale was a quivering moan.

Just a little bend of her body forth was enough, lips separated with a weak shout as the digits slipped further into the opening. He moved slow then quicker, increasing the pace rapidly...

"Ahhhh..."

Rimkaur's palm slipped under the outer loin cover cupping the leather covered protrusion. How good it felt responding to her touch, stiffening further, expanding... Fingers fumbled in a feverish foretaste to undo the ties... The leather flap fell away and the scorching heat assaulted her palm. The teeth sank into her lip... Recalling the conversations with her friends, tentatively she encircled the erection sliding the fist up and down with firm pressure. He responded with throbbing, hips bucked forth into her grasp as the growl vibrated down his core... The male's fingers left her warmth slipping back into the tresses he twined them around his wrist nudging her down, gently first, then with persistent brashness.

It begged to be tasted... She trembled, almost too strongly... The tongue hesitated finally leaving the protection of the mouth it licked over the head carefully and tentatively first...

"Oh..."

She slid him in deeper and deeper, tightening her hold, kissing and licking all over as his digits roamed her hair. Even more now goosebumps crept up her back imagining this within her... Yet another thought caused the building heat to tickle her womb.

Blackened lips gaped with the moan letting the moonlight reflect against his incisors, he watched his cock slide in and out making light thrusts forth with her motions. Her touch, scent, taste the small weak sounds she produced were like nothing else. The Orc's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply and feverishly reveling in it all... Things he was going to do to her... Azog pulled away to meet an almost petulant moan. His mouth tipped into a smirk yet then the eyes as if caught the darkness instead of light. The prosthetic came to tickle under her chin. Trembling slightly she remained. The fingers caressed her face travelling over her lips. The tip of one slipped into her mouth to be met by her tongue... Rim gazed up to witness the blackness overcoming his stare the canines still stained with her blood. His strength toppled her over. Her breathing soundfull and rapid she laid splayed as he loomed above her.

So small...

Azog leaned forth to delineate his tongue along her earlobe, it slipped in then teeth took hold. The stiff length moved sliding down her sternum, roughly he split her legs apart pausing over her bare hips with an inhale. Goosebumps visible clearly in their incursion upon her skin... Smooth, inviting, his...

The member slid over her heat parting her folds, filling her as slowly as his instincts would allow him. Fully within he paused for a short moment, trembling lips gave way exposing the canines... A first thrust forth his growl and her shout. The male moved rhythmically retracting and thrusting forth as if attempting to reach even deeper.

Rimkaur's body arched to her lover, tears came uninvited... He caught her gaze keeping it and she stretched towards his lips... He felt the way she could have never imagined... To taste, to feel, to hear him... She could barely accommodate his girth and length and every twitch of his send her nerves into the euphoric trance. The human twined her legs at the Orc back, moans and gasps left her lips as if on their own. She screamed, screamed his name arching forth to his rhythm...

 **x x x**

Rimkaur eyed Azog teasingly standing in the doorway atop the spiral steps.

"Why don't you make me." Her own statement caused her to breathe out aquiver. As the huge male took but one step she slipped around the corner darting down the steps.

In the enormous hall a vast darkness yet who can rival a nose and the eyes of the top predator especially when you're a human female covered in the scent of a rut.

The flapping tresses caught and wound she put up a vigorous fight to only bring his growing lust to boil over. The Orc pushed the human onto her knees with a feverish growl. She welcomed him eagerly parting her lips for the manhood slide in. The small palms caressed his things as he moved on his own then she took over.

As if thinking what to do with the caught prey he lifted her to stand craning her head left to right fingers again twined in her locks. Far from done he was... The Orc began to circle his female causing her to tremble uncontrollably.

The skin on her back invited his palm he bend letting his lips join... The fingers dug into the taut flesh of her rump then explored to the front... They slipped in claiming every inch. Rimkaur's hips pushed back instinctively.

Whether she fought or submitted every moan pervaded reaction of hers forced him to throb almost painfully. She was his in every way, she was marked... Yet there was still the unquenched desire to fuck her, harder and harder until both of them can barely breathe...

The anticipation drove her mad while once again he entangled her strands. The male moved forward hauling Rim to the stone structure. Skin slid over stone... She gasped shoved forth abruptly, her palms met the scabrous surface of the throne seat. The arms gave way momentarily as he penetrated from behind, this time brusquely. Rimkaur whimpered and writhed yet he held her in his grip, the strength of the pull increasing every time his hips rammed forth.

Pain of a pleasant kind...

Sounds of pleasure left his lips, grunting and growling entwined her whimpers and moans...

"Don't stop..."

Soaked walls contracting around his manhood the male's vision blackened momentarily, the force of the release slacked his limbs and the huge frame leaned forward to envelope her petite body. His cock not rushing to leave her warmth he rocked forth spilling the seed within her.

"My Rimkaur..."

 **x x x**

"Come back to me." Her voice was low and gentle. The Orc blinked hard, his head twitched sidelong.

"Hmm?" A gruff sound came from his throat.

"Come back to me." Rimkaur echoed, cupping his scarred cheek.

A small, tender smile has lit up his face. He drew her in. This was a moment of clarity.

They were back upstairs and she had noticed his features darken, eyes morph hollow... He had sat up in bed staring into the darkened silence...

She smiled back but that happy expression had vanished immediately.

"Send him to lead. Send Narzug." She implored. "Don't go..."

A barely discernable sound left his lips. He did not reply, simply drew her close, his lips touching her hair. She drifted to sleep swaddled in his embrace yet he wasn't sure of what tomorrow brings.

 **x x x**

 **'Feral Love' by Chelsea Wolfe**

How dire and completely powerless it is when your mind floats back onto the surface, out of the black bog that sucks it in in its entirety and at once a realization comes crushing down, this is not what you have wanted. Yet you are still there, your body refuses to listen as if you are someone's puppet and then your mind slips back into the impenetrable blackness. His fingers tugged the fur with such strength his Warg snapped her giant jaws, slowing her trot. He gazed back fleetingly, his lips in a tight grey line. Even though his mind and body did not listen the only part of his being that knew the truth thumped heavily in his chest... It tweaked in agony... Before his eyes was her, sleeping peacefully... Content in his arms, trusting him with her life... He failed her once again... Azog scowled. Ahead lay Dol Guldur.

 **x x x**

Washed over in pleasant dreams, a cold hand reached up to grasp firmly around her throat, jolting her awake in beads of chilled sweat. The sickening sensation she felt in her stomach appeared to have been the truth, he left... Once more... Rimkaur sat up, staring blankly into the morning landscape, visible through the balcony doors. How can she fight something that immense... That overpowering... The young woman bit her lips harshly to halt any possibility of tears. She straightened, her bare body washed in the peaking rays of the Sun. They reflected her bright strands, setting them afire. That fire blackened turning into a dim, raven wing glow as she wended towards the edge. Her fingers clenched the stone railing. Same warm rays attempted to bring her eyes to light but only to fail, the once windows to the soul they were blacker than night. Slender, pallor fingers grasped the stone with unimaginable strength. Rimkaur felt a teardrop escape, snake to her lips, she brushed it off... Gazing down in shock... It was dark red...

 **x x x**

The sweaty grey hide moved unhurriedly over the fire as he performed his work, the cavern resounded with clangor and the hefty Orc wiped the sweat off with the back of his palm, lowering heavily onto the flat rock. Most work he did was fixing, but recently the orders for weapons kept piling up. His bird-like nose twitched forcing his brows to draw. The scent that had suddenly filled the corridor was unusual... He went back to work but spun suddenly detecting the presence. She stood at the opening in silence.

"Have anything to spare?"

The large male blinked hard then frowned, however that frown was swiftly replaced by a grin.

"Nathn in yer size." He measured her small frame with his dark yellow stare.

"How about Snagas then?" She was still hopeful.

The grey Orc scratched his forehead with a bewildered smirk.

"Ye lucky then, mistress." He went to the far end of the smithy to rummage through the pile of metal. He yanked out a dark grey, matted cuirass. It held lots of dents and scrapes.

"You have four hours to fit it." She spun curtly.

"What's in it fer me?" The smith smirked once more. He had to flick his wrist rapidly as something small flew in his direction. His massive palm unclasped to find a tiny velvet pouch. He emptied the contents to find a several golden coins inside. They bore the emblems of the enemy.

"Four hours." Nothing but her scent wafted through the space when he lifted his head.

 **x x x**

Nothing but a compact dark figure on the top of the hill she surveyed the fog shrouded ruins. It didn't matter Pafund was fast or that the forger worked as fast as he could she'd missed him. The ancient fortress was quiet, left empty... Rimkaur frowned. The black entity must be still there however... Hidden, lurking, staying away, forcing others to perform his vile work... Compressing her jaws she directed her Warg around the bend, down the wall of the rock-ribbed mound. Once through the tear in the wall she found herself in a common space of the underground level. The human dismounted treading lightly. The structure was deserted entirely, she had come too late... A faint echo of a scuffle carried from the adjacent corridor, light scraping of leather against stone.

"Deserter eh?" She heard a familiar voice.

Rimkaur took off the helmet.

"Hello Hiisht. You stayed?" She smiled weakly.

The ancient Snaga's lips stretched into a smile. "Too old for all this shit." He complained with a mischievous spark in his eyes. But very soon after his brows furrowed, he approached the woman deliberately.

"Something different about ye..." His mustardy eyes narrowed.

"You mean besides the fact that I am covered in Snaga armor?" Rim laughed half-heartedly as Hiisht stepped nearer.

"He done it didn't he..." The Orc had finally uttered. "Could smell him all over ye..."

"Hiisht I..." Rimkaur protested. "Please do not say anything..." Her gaze fell in defeat, forcing the Snaga to perk up just a bit.

"Well then, what you wish me to do." His stooped frame leaned onto a thick cane. "Plan to follow them eh?" He smirked darkly. "Smelling like a female."

The human's eyes dilated. "Hiisht!" She sighed. "I..."The old male rolled his eyes retreating into the darkness. He returned a few moments later, carrying a metal container.

"Don't ask what's in it." His face was taken by a frown. "Rub on yer hair and extremities and such..." He extended his hand towards her helmet.

When Rimkaur was done, the mixture left a grayish film on her skin, she indeed resembled a warrior fully readied for battle. Hiisht sniffed approvingly but when he handed the helm back, the spindly fingers clutched onto the metal.

"...You go, you die..." He uttered, gazing straight into her eyes. Rimkaur returned the stare, Snaga's eyes were full of pity.

"I know, Hiisht, I know."


	8. All Paths lead North

**Hey, I am so excited! I am updating, finally! We are very close to a pivotal point.**

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 **THANK YOU so much to everyone for the lovely comments and for your support! Love you all!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Eight**_

 _ **'All Paths lead North'**_

 _ **'Gib mir deine Augen' by Rammstein**_

The weak rays of the afternoon Sun warmed the wilted grass of the vast plains just barely. It was trampled, compressed into the dry, packed soil. The snow blanketed mountain range delineated the sky in the near distance. The march of the endless sea of the armored bodies produced a steady, rhythmic rumble. The Orc army advanced North at a steady pace. There were so many, their spears resembled a forest, a forest that had suddenly grown feet.

The leader of the vast army sat atop his white beast ten feet ahead of the front line. His massive torso encased in plated, fur-trimmed cuirass. Knife-like steel spokes rimmed his thick neck resembling weapons of their own. The Pale Orc's features were as if chiseled of stone, expression set to bored indifference yet his eyes were alert. He straightened his spine setting his shoulders back to alleviate the muscle fatigue. The small dust cloud on the horizon has notified him of presence, the tiny dot grew quickly and the outline of a Warg rider became clearly visible.

 _"Taubûrz golugu..."_ Narzug rode forth attempting to tame his weary, irritated mount. The setting Sun scorched his dark hide transforming his mud-brown braids into a nearly chestnut shade.

Azog's jaws set, his prosthetic arm jut into the air halting the entire army in one regal motion. The hoard transfixed in a flawless formation.

"King's son and the she-elf..." The rider's chest heaved. "They tracked us to Laketown." As he circled on the spot delivering the news, the tip of the leader's arm was poised at the back of his scull.

 _"Azulnarlat?"_ The King's face darkened in building fury.

"They fled squealing like filthy cowards..." The Dark Orc hissed attempting to offer a palliation.

"You fool." A grimace distorted the Pale Orc's mouth. "They will return... With an army of Elves at their back." The ice-blue shone with disdain bound rage.

Narzug glowered into his Warg's neck attempting to forget the fact that he had nearly perished himself at he hand of the aforementioned she-elf. The tip of the scimitar arm rested at the back of his neck forcing a drop of black to escape the parted flesh. He haven't moved a muscle, any provocation would spell an instant repercussion.

"Ride to Gundabad..." Azog spun to face away curtly. He circled his mount to cast his glare at the army.

"Let the Legions come forth."

Before the dark-skinned soldier could depart Azog's eyes concealed a spark. "Half-blood is to lead them."

Sitting tall and proud astride his Warg the leader's sword rose into the air deliberately as he faced his vast army once more. For a fleeting moment his features held pride.

"Elves! Men! Dwarves! He bellowed. "The mountain will be their tomb! To war!"

The Pale Orc stilled his arm. The thump still oozed thick black. He gazed momentarily upon the exposed flesh that re-emerged from replacing his prosthetic. Twice as long as the previous version the curved blade was double notched and razor-sharp to deliver instant demise. That blade took to the air sharply, gesturing the hordes forth.

 **x x x**

Standing in the middle of the strait pathway Rimkaur couldn't recall how she got there. Gazing down to her feet she transfixed in terror watching the blackness creep up her limbs.

"Fool." The very familiar chilling voice reiterated in her eardrums. "You have failed already."

The boundless black entity engulfed her body and she felt herself falling... Beneath, - the cellars of the dark fortress. All at once instead of casting her to the ground, now diaphanous tentacles shrank away tossing her up into the chilled air. Tumbling through the nothingness the human landed into the pool of water.

 _"I didn't know Dol Guldur had a mot..."_ A bizarre thought crossed her mind as she attempted to swim to safety. However the mirky, blooming waters weren't allowing an easy escape sucking her into their viscid depths. The Shadow hasn't come back to finish her... For an unknown reason swallowed by the swampy waters fully she was able see the Moon casting its silvery rays down upon her suspended frame. _His_ form floated above her, as if a product of imagination or a memory... The deepest blue eyes open wide as if in awe at the unimaginable pain... The human's mouth fell open taking in water...

Rimkaur jerked, her eyes opened abruptly and she squinted at the bright lights. She felt sweltered as if after running for miles, the heart kept thumping wildly against the bones protecting it. The Warg's golden eyes watched her mistress with a curious concern. Rising to her feet slowly the woman shuddered away the frightful memories. She gazed back one last time in the direction of Amon Sul.

"Do you dream, Pafund?" Rim's fingers sank into the inky fur, the beast snorted and leaned in for the mount. "Better if you don't." The woman sighed deeply pressing her lips.

 **x x x**

She halted at the edge of Mirkwood gazing over at the limitless valley spreading ahead of her. The freezing worry took over her stomach weighing her down, she was rooted to the spot. Rimkaur's eyes fell fingers rakes the softness absentmindedly as the dread crept in. None of this was easy yet she couldn't fathom turning back. The jaws set into a tight line, shoulders squared... Her chest was carved out hollow... The one that left had taken her heart with him. Creatures commit insane deeds for love... Hers was to free him...

Rimkaur wasn't naïve... But she couldn't see herself anywhere else. Leaning forward to stroke the wolf's forehead, with a gentle thrust of her boots she nudged her proceeding ahead.

The outline far off on the edge of the horizon wasn't the woodland. Rim crouched beneath the brink of the hill. Her Warg sensed her mistress' emotions, she picked up the pace hence and by the next afternoon they have caught up. In front of them the steel mass of the sea of soldiers traversing forth at a steady pace. The human took in a deep, quivering inhale, fixing her helmet she made sure none of her bright locks had peeked out. Dismounting she faced the large canine.

"This is where you stay, Pafund." The young woman pressed her forehead to the beast's large snout. Her words quiet yet firm. A barely audible rustle of scattered, blown leaves forced her to spin. Pafund lowered her massive head guiltily.

" _Nar_..." Rim's small hand landed onto her nose. "Stay... Please." A shuddering breath escaped her lungs. "No harm will come to you this way." Hunched over she continued forward without turning back.

 **x x x**

"Tha fuck ye doing her'?" A thick gravelly voice thundered. "Fool." The massive Orc bared his teeth. "Her' carry tha pennant." The warrior shoved the stick into Rimkaur's hands. "Fuckin' Snaga..." He continued spitting profanities under his breath.

She'd reached the back of the formation and being greeted in this way was the best welcome she could have reckoned. They took her as a Snaga male. The human would have wiped the sweat of her brow, but she wouldn't dare to remove her helmet. But this kind of acceptance also hindered her making an attempt to reach the frontlines now that she had a task.

That was all she needed... To face him... She glowered at the warrior by her side.

The end of the day brought another halt to the forces. They stopped at the foothills of the range. The massive rock formation jutted out the mud green soil like broken ribs protruding through a damaged flesh.

The rest was dragged out and shuffling on he spot Rim couldn't see what was transpiring ahead. She let an angry sigh slip out unknowingly which earned her a glare from the soldier to her right.

"Hate yer fuckin' small kind." A pool of saliva landed onto the trampled ground at her feet. "Complain much." Suddenly the soldier's nose twitched, his head cocked left. The eyes widened when his mouth morphed into a toothy grin.

"I smell a broad." His deep red eyes fixed onto the human.

Hiisht's concoction must have been wearing off...

"Ehhmm..." Rim fumbled at the thin dagger at her hip with terror creeping her spine. She gathered herself for her voice to sound as smug and deep as possible.

"I had one... Recently." She bit the inside of her lip.

Unexpectedly to her the giant warrior punched her shoulder forcing her petite frame to slam into the male aback.

"Ye did?" He attempted to confine the thundering laughter. "Ha! I wish I was there!" He continued to rumble as she seemingly gained solidarity amongst the foot-soldiers.

 **x x x**

A massive cavern in front of him, Azog's gaze flicked up at the vaulted ceiling. It bore deep, wide grooves as if eaten out by the colossal teeth. The opening was so wide, a ten rows of warriors could have marched in with little to no effort. A grey skinned rider emerged out of the tunnel.

"Our army will be in position by dawn. The attack will be sudden and swift." He hissed bowing his head considerably while delivering the news.

Azog approached his beast. "Fools." A wicked smirk emerged on the Pale Orc's lips as a booming rumble carried from the womb of the mountain. He sidestepped, a swift jab of his metal arm and a hefty rodent-like critter thrashed at the tip. A grin lit up his dark features as his Warg grasped the tiny carcass gulping it down whole.

"They have forgotten what lives beneath these lands." The Orc general continued to gloat mounting and setting forth. "They have forgotten the great Earth-eaters."

 **x x x**

The night fell upon the landscape unhurriedly, it was starless, impenetrable, not that it mattered to Orcs. Scattered fires littered the wide stretch of land that was rimmed with patches of dense woodland. Excitement and anticipation hang in the air, discussions, curses, drinking, chatter... Everyone sensed the proximity of their goal, the proximity of the enemy. When the last one in the circle around her fire had dropped dead asleep she scoot away cautiously then rose to her feet. Rimkaur circled the extensive formation to the left, searching... For any sign of him... She psyched herself up fearing to face Azog, forcing her appearance to alter in turn aiding her vision. That fear was based in his refusal... Or... The possible drastic mental metamorphosis...

Rimkaur halted, she passed the front lines. A stray moon ray reflected in the black pools of her eyes as she scanned the empty terrain. Absolutely lifeless, not a single thing told her of his presence.

From behind, her petite frame was outlined sharply against the silver light of the newly cloud free Moon. She was swooped of her feet and simply thrown to the rotten leaf packed ground. A stifled growl carried from aback. The woman scampered up quickly. Her chest heaved terribly, it ached from thumping against the stiff cuirass. The towering pale frame stood not few feet away. Something else caught the silver light and the lengthy notched blade came into her view. Without further doubt Rim freed herself of the helmet. She flung it to his feet.

 _"Lat..?"_ His word was if accidental, escaped without permission.

"Did you expect someone else?" She couldn't help a sarcastic response measuring his body with her glare. That did not aid the matter, she wanted to remain irate to prove her point, to sway him... But her gaze traversing his body caused the half-human to become weak in her knees. The segmented armor fit his torso like a glove, a much shorter loin-cover and a scull of a large animal decorated his hips, his arm muscles rippled under his skin every time his fingers formed a fist. So soon after their mating... Her insides pervaded with the scorching warmth and she had nearly cursed herself audibly but he thrust her back to reality.

"You must leave." His voice was gruff, he stood motionless as a lonely tree in a land where the winds had seized to exist.

Those words hurt, her jaws squared. "Not without you."

She exhaled with an audible huff stepping nearer, her heavy armor hindered her movement and the woman tore off the breast plates in irritation.

"He has weakened. I felt it. You can attempt to break free. Please try... You must!" The words left her lips in a hurry, her hands twisted in front of her but his eyes had told her it was for nothing, they were sharp and focused but there was something else in their chilling depths.

"No harm must come to you." His expression was plain... Emotionless. Even though, the words he mouthed gave her hope.

"What happens to me if harm comes to you?" A sob was caught in her chest. She tilted her head to expose the bite mark. Fresh, raw, still seeping dark red fluid...

"Did this mean nothing?" She exhaled. "You came back once. Please... Do it again."

Rim's gaze plummeted to the ground as tears began to slowly emerge clouding her vision. He was impervious, it was useless. Her numbened fingers released the faulds attached to her belt, exposing her thighs and the male style loin cover she wore beneath. Her last resort, being a woman...

She approached tentatively yet her first instinct was to shove at his chest. The anger, frustration leaked to the surface... It was as if attempting to move a mountain... After a several efforts the human began punching him. Her eyes and hair had altered black once again as she growled at his immovable form.

"Selfish... You took me, you mate me and you leave... How can I..." When his arm came in her way another burst of ire propelled the small female forward. She leaped up his back nimbly, trapping his arm with her thigh she held on to the sword points decorating the top of his cuirass clamping her jaws onto his nape. Rim was enraged, her teeth had penetrated deep forcing the Orc to flip her with force.

She panted, grunted and arched but he held her down without uttering a word.

"You deserved all of this and more." She scowled attempting another thrust to freedom. "Release me...I will..." She didn't finish. The harsh words simply lodged in her throat. The way he looked at her in that moment, as if for the first time... His remaining hand slipped into her hair. Rimkaur bit the inside of her lip. Why was she so weak...

 _"You love him..."_ The voice in her head offered the simple explanation and tears flooded her cheeks.

"What is this for Azog? Blood-thirst, vengeance, pride... Greed..?" He ceased another onslaught of her words. There was no answer from him, perhaps it would be too complex, perhaps he did not know himself. He pulled her in instead trapping her lips with his. She stilled answering his kiss clutching his face in her trembling palms. The Orc pulled her into his lap brushing the salty drops away tenderly with his thick thumb. He unfastened his armor slowly, holding her to his chest until her breathing turned steady, she passed out emotions taking their tall.

 **x x x**

It all had transpired prior. Yes it did... Rimkaur awoke, her face smooshed into the softness once again. She blinked hard, constricted by something she wiggled. It was as if someone inexperienced had tied her or they were meant to be broken easily... The sky was still dark, however the golden rim of the rising Sun had already illuminated the Eastern horizon. A loud grunt of fury parted her lips, she was the only rider. The human gazed aback concentrating her gaze, the white Warg had reached far...

"Stop." The human forced her voice to sound as powerful as possible. She could ask anything of Pafund, however Azog's beast was another story. "I... We need to go back." Rim tugged at the long fur.

She figured he must have given the order to get her back to Moria again. Safety... Rim scowled. Away from everything...

"I'll jump if you won't." The woman threatened and the large wolf picked up the pace.

"Please _Naurnink..._ " Rimkaur leaned forward to bring her face towards the Warg's forehead. "I fear he faces death."

She inhaled as if gathering her courage to mouth the following words. "And if it does I... I..."

With a loud snort the massive wolf came to an abrupt halt, her thick claws raked the earth as she slid over the wet grass. Rimkaur leaped off coming to face the matriarch. With the lack of words she simply embraced the beast forgetting the possible danger.

 _"Narnûlubat..."_ She clung to her massive neck. "Let's hurry..."

 **x x x**

Azog felt almost reprehensible holding her in his arms... He knew he failed as a mate. But he couldn't... Could not go without touching her, tasting her, having her... Mating her, before embarking on this march... Starting this war. The night he had her kept flashing back in his mind. The sweetness of her blood, the smell of her arousal, the feel of her skin...

His gaze fell onto her features. She always brought him back to reality if only momentarily. He will not allow anything to happen to her...

The Pale Orc seemed to fail to understand that while he felt his mate duty was to shield her from any harm at the same time hers was to do the same. That's why she accomplished an insane act of following the army.

Why couldn't he simply turn back... Azog failed to produce a sufficient answer. Perhaps he desired to be rid of it all. The pestering, annoying nudge at the back of his neck that the Dwarf was still alive... But the hum of the dark lord was still there seemingly lodged in his front lobe.

 _"You will lead my armies. Death will come to all."_ The Orc's lip curled in a tremble exposing his knife-edged teeth, all the senses were blocked except that one of smell, and all that was there for him was the metallic, rancid stench of the liquid that kept dwarf-scum alive...

Taking in a deep, shuddering breath he fumbled at the pouch on the back of his belt unearthing a tiny vile. He poured the liquid onto Rimkaur's lips. It was the valerian root tincture, many soldiers used it to aid with sleep, as it was the only way besides drinking yourself into the ground. He pressed his lips to hers one last time. Azog sat there for a long while his palm on her chest simply feeling the calm pace of her heartbeat.

The white Warg approached deliberately, summoned by her master's call. The bright-haired human was strapped to her back loosely.

"Protect her with you life." His pale fingers slid over the white softness trailing over the bright strands. He nudged the wolf forth.

 **x x x**

The walls of metal smashed together producing a horrid unnerving screech. The Orc army met Dwarves'. Scimitars, yatagans, axes and hammers collided together to produce a mind numbing clangor. All at once the scintillating, elegant figures clad in light flexible armor leaped catapulting themselves over the heads of the frontline Dwarves. Their bows fired with deadly, coordinated precision. The woodland Elves have joined the battle.

Up the ridge in burned out but newly populated Dale the battle of its' own raged street by street. It was no less bloody and death filled, bodies of all races littered the neat cobblestone pathways of the former trading post.

She was in more peril than she could have imagined. Dressed as an Orc, she was in danger of being slaughtered by Men or Elves without a single thought of mercy. If she was rid of the armor she was more likely than not to get attacked by her own kind. Her jaws compressed Rim felt a lump wedge in in her throat as she witnessed the slaughter of this magnitude for the first time in her short life. And for what? Territory? Treasures? Triumph? Any hardly worth someone's life. Attempting not to get consumed by the shock of what unfolded in front of her and the fear for his life Rimkaur clang to the afternoon shadows that lurked in the corners of the town, enwrapping the dead in their eerily calming, concealing blackness. At the partially collapsed wall which bordered Dale something hindered her slow progress. A hand at her ankle, so sudden it made her tumble. Someone grunted, coughed attempting to struggle out from beneath the bodies and the woman used both of her arms rolling the culprit over.

"Durbûrz!" Her eyes dilated. "What are you doing here?"

"Orders little one." The large Orc grunted attempting to sit up. Rim's eyes darted behind her to check for any unwanted company then they returned to the soldier. His left arm was obviously broken, two arrows had stricken his shoulder. Blood oozed from the back of his head. Rim's lips quivered.

"Does she know..?" Her teeth compressed the inside of her lip.

"Course." He nodded, attempting to shake away blurry vision. "Not much choice there."

"Come." Rimkaur tugged his better arm.

"Not much left f'me." Durbûrz resisted. "Ye go. Far from here..."

Rim all but slapped his blood covered face. "You in your right mind? She'll die if you will..." With the sudden furious determination she strode towards the first neighboring human corpse proceeding to tug off the unfortunate victim's outer garb. Dead's man's belt was an improvised tourniquet. The rest was used to conceal the tall Orc's appearance as much as possible.

"That'll have to do." She pursed her lips slightly. "Await darkness. Head for the tunnels the Earth-eaters bore. And don't be a fool." She instructed sternly.

Bûrzkaur's mate nodded proceeding towards the nearest shadow filled corner, before he vanished completely he gazed over his shoulder.

"The winged gonfalon. He's there."

Rimkaur had nearly stumbled once more and the large Orc couldn't contain a warm smile. "Moria. She told me."

The young woman felt her face flush and could barely nod back.

When the Orc was out of view she directed her gaze at her target. The snow blanketed Raven Hill towered like a colossal guard above the battle engulfed valley. Her knuckles turned white, with an audible exhale she headed forth. Not away but closer to danger, closer than ever.

* * *

 **Black Speech:**

 **Taubûrz golugu - Mirkwood/Woodland Elves**

 **Azulnarlat? - And you didn't kill them? (lit. 'Kill Them not you')**

 **Nar - No**

 **Lat? - You?**

 **Naurnink - White Wolf (lit. wolf-white)**

 **Narnûlubat - Thank you (lit. I won't hurt you)**


	9. The Light Fades

****WARNING: Violence, gore and feels** ******

* * *

 **THANK YOU SO MUCH to all my dear readers for your support!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Nine**_

 _ **'The Light fades'**_

 _ **'Alesia' by Eluvietie**_

They stood at the ready jutting their scimitars into the air in anticipation fueled by the proximity of the enemy. The sharpened steel armored, mace swinging trolls broke through the frontlines positioning themselves at the head of the horde. The skill and the sheer force of the Orc army was unmatched.

"Not yet." His stare was directed forth into the Sun bathed valley. "Wait...Wait..." Azog's arm extended rightwards to halt the Snaga in charge of the gonfalon. The soldier shuffled nervously shifting his body weight from one foot to another. His armor emitted a sharp creaking noise as he twitched. He stared to the King then glanced nervously behind him.

"Attack... now!" Azog bellowed the unerring command. His limb flew forth as if solely the gesture would bring movement to his massive army. The nervous underling mimicked the movement and the right wing flew forth signaling the commencement of the brutal attack. The effect was immediate. The war has begun.

 **x x x**

Down in the boundless valley, delineated solely by the soldier flanks Gandalf squinted against the blinding rays. His stare was directed far ahead at the rocky side of the hill. A small grunt came from his throat the his lips pressed together firmly. The sickness overcome oldest of Durins had finally awoken from the all consuming madness. Thorin had joined the unfolding battle and so did the rest of the Dwarven company. He ran forth with a battle cry meant to redeem his honor.

"Where... is he going? Bilbo sniffled wiping his nose, his brows drew in the profound worry.

"The Raven Hill. He is taking his best warriors." Istari's features were tainted by the hate he felt. "To cut off the head of the snake." The words were meant to mock. The Hobbit gazed up the snow covered mount as tiny figures of the Dwarves faded against the fresh snow. A lump had wedged in his throat. He had to do something.

 **x x x**

Their breaths formed a tiny floating cloud, Fili and Kili were the first to sprint up. They stood catching their breaths as they stared up the Orcish contraption. The mists have moved in shrouding the command post in their embrace. And yet it was visible clearly that the Pale Orc was absent.

"You think Azog... has fled?" The baffled Kili turned towards his brother. The frown on his sibling's face has deepened. Their uncle approached taking in the lone platform, his swift gaze darted in both directions.

"Fili, Kili. Go scout the hill." His arm jerked towards the abandoned structure. As his nephews sprinted forward in excited determination, proud to be bestowed with such an important task, Thorin's gruff voice bore the last words of advice.

"Be careful, stay low. Do not engage in a fight."

The fortress of the Raven Hill was much larger inside than it appeared outwardly, many constricted passages snaked several different ways and the young Dwarves agreed to part. Kili sprinted Northward, the tapping sounds of his hefty boots echoed the corridor. To his dismay it was not the only thing reiterating against the massive boulders that comprised the walls. The oncoming gust of the bone chilling wind seemed to carry in a mix of sonorous, resounding howls. They were rapidly approaching and the youngest of Durins found the claws of panic arrive to encase his throat. Taking off one way he spun on his heels abruptly to head in the opposite direction...

 **x x x**

The fingers of his remaining arm clutched the coat of the straw-haired Dwarf. Azog's face appeared nearly repulsed for having to touch 'the thing.' The gloating grin spread across his face as he witnessed Thorin and the others stare up in sheer shock and terror. The Orc leader did not await a supplication. Fili's head had already dripped scarlet red. Azog's sword arm retreated in preparation to jab forth into the midst of the torso. Another strong gust blew and unexpectedly the Dwarf twitched out of his stupor. He thrashed violently having no clue his death was mere inches away. Exerting himself he tore his coat reaching freedom. Yet still, that freedom lay at the bottom of the fortress as Fili plummeted into the snowdrifts.

"Fili No!" Thorin's eyes distended, he bellowed desperately a stabbing pain pervading his chest. Bilbo's lids fluttered, he swiveled very close to being faint.

Kili watched his brother's body from the protection of the lower level with tears in his bloodshot eyes. Squaring his shoulders in blind determination he darted back into the crumbling structure.

Azog the Defiler rolled his eyes at all the commotion. His towering frame spun curtly, he strode out in brisk, broad steps followed by his retinue.

Kili felt so close to crying he bit his lips almost to puncture the skin. His knuckles turned pallid from clutching his sword. He was the oldest now, he had to be strong... The now next in line sprinted through the fortress hacking left and right at the oncoming foot soldiers. He will avenge his brother he will kill the...

What unfolded before him brought his guts to scramble.

Tauriel...

The Elleth lay splayed on the ground, her bright blood snaking a trail from the deep cut on her beautiful, unmarred face... For a moment Kili transfixed, stunned, in shock... He wondered if his grieving mind was playing tricks on him...

Unfortunately it wasn't. Tauriel's eyes brimmed with tears of agony and disgust she stared disdainfully at her attacker. The large black-skinned Orc revealed his yellowing fangs leering at her prone body. The massive, serrated weapon rose, the male paused as if enjoying the moment or perhaps taking the best aim.

With a battle cry to match that of his uncle Kili launched himself onto the assailant stealing a few knuckle jabs at the Orc's jaw. Attempting to reach his weapon, he was flipped and pinned, bones cracked at the brutality of the grasp. The young Dwarf was simply too small and not strong enough to oppose such an attacker.

"Kili! No!" Tauriel's voice was raspy with horror as the curved blade penetrated her beloved's torso. A tiny river of blood snaked his lip as his eyes met hers for the very last time. The youngest Durin's body crumpled to the rocky ground...

The soldier grinned at the limp frame as if knowing the identity of his victim, the importance of the kill... Ignoring the Elleth this time, he pitched his nose for a moment retreating beyond the crag.

 **x x x**

Rimkaur halted at the foothill. She had managed to reach her target without many problems. She was small and quick avoiding the danger instead of opposing it head on. The young woman craned her head to direct her stare at the platform that held the command post. Gut twisting worry constricted her being... He had many enemies... The entire valley was flooded with them. And now he wasn't even here... Rim removed her helmet rubbing her face with both of her palms. Her stomach began to knot, nausea assaulted her in violent waves. Blood pumping through her veins rapidly her mating bite throbbed as if serving as a reminder to press on. Swallowing hard she proceeded, if there was anything, any small thing she could do, she will do it. Anything it takes...

The next sharp corner brought the young woman to a complete halt. Her panicky gaze fell onto the female cradling a small body to her heart. With a tweak in her chest the human recognized the victim. The lengthy, bright-red tresses fell onto the lifeless face as the Elleth caressed it lovingly. Rimkaur's thoughts had suddenly fumbled over the distant secret her father revealed. This Elven female could have been her mother... Red hair... Green eyes...

Those eyes left the one they mourned fixing onto the newcomer. Tauriel's brow furrowed, she inspected the small figure. Orc garb or not, a woman knows a woman when she sees one. Their gazes locked. That moment ushered in the mutual understanding. The golden eyes told her that the stranger will not attack. The captain's paled lips quivered slightly as her attention returned to her beloved.

 **x x x**

Thorin ran like mad, his iron-toe boots slid over the icy terrain. His chest heaved, black, sweat drenched locks stuck to the back of his neck. How could it be, the reality of it all, his decision, it all appeared to be a perverted illusion... His sister's oldest was dead... Slain by the hands of the one he loathed the most. The heir of Durin came to an abrupt stop reaching a frozen stream. It formed an oval, cliff-rimmed courtyard before ending in a sheer drop of a waterfall. It was so serene here... So still. As if the massacre bellow hasn't transpired... The Dwarf's head fell onto his chest. A sonorous sound of a horn bounced of the mountainside jolting him alert once more. It grew louder, more threatening,- the sound of an attack. A several stooped figures leaped over the nearby crag, sprinting over in his direction. The tremble of the Earth carried to his feet, the flanks weren't far off...

The Gundabadian army has arrived, and it arrived ready.

Spreading his feet apart and steadying himself on the ice the Dwarf leader readied for the onset. He hacked left and right, his small stature aiding him greatly. The unexpected help also came from the jack of all trades and ever present Elven Prince. Whilst pinned under yet another assailant, the Durin was freed of the burden by the swift throw of Legolas' blade. Thorin managed a nod in return. Thanking the Elf wasn't an easy task. He loathed his fair-haired father and the offspring of one only reminded him of the sire.

The danger had passed seemingly. The male rose brushing off the snow... Ahead at the river's neck the massive figure shielded the Sun. He had one more enemy to oppose. The Pale Orc's eyes scintillated gut wrenching, nearly palpable hatred, his sneer was mocking, the curt nod of his head,- a sure challenge. The thick chain of his massive flail snaked to wrap tight around Azog's wrist.

The Orc leader's formidable frame stood as if hewn of granite. He watched the fight hoping to witness Oakenshield choking blood at the end of it. Yet at the same time he thirsted to draw that blood on his own. His eyes came to light, he will get his chance. Everything, all of it, every corner of his mind was overcome with the desire for vengeance, there was nothing else left, not a speck. The voice of the Dark Lord had become stifled, yet it still fueled his rage, his limitless blood thirst. The flail swung sharply to aim at the approaching Dwarf's chest. He missed, recoiled and swung again. But the runt was as quick as a scampering mouse avoiding all lethal blows skillfully. His rage escalating, the Orc shortened the chain rotating his wrist he wrapped it tighter round his forearm. His next blow reached the target knocking the wind out the enemy. Thorin plopped onto the ice, splayed flat he struggled to inhale. He had not a moment to spare however, every second drew death closer. He struggled but rose, pierced by a stabbing ache in his gut. The flail resumed its' swinging, though missing its' mark. Azog began to grow irate, a roar building in his chest let itself out resounding the empty landscape. The hefty chain flew once more slamming into the ice instead. The Orc commander shifted forth, his prey was wounded he had to act quick. Cracking beneath his iron-shod boots threw his stance off. A hulking sheet of ice tore itself off tilting slowly, painfully so, it jut into the air eventually. The Pale Orc's large frame couldn't retain the balance, the leader slid off vanishing into the frigid waters.

A wave of astonished relief had suddenly flooded Thorin's chest. Was it over... Indeed, was the Orc filth finally dead? Ridding the free world off his vile presence..? His lip contorted in disgust. Staring at the ice with worry still gnawing at the back of his heart the heir of Durin found his blood chilled watching the Pale Orc's body float right under the surface of the lucid ice. His eyes were blank pools of blue as cold and as hostile as the river itself. The current carried him towards the frozen falls. Transfixed by the sight the Dwarf kept watching, as if to make sure... Those hate and disdain filled eyes shut. Before a heavy sigh could escape Oakenshield's chest a new terror had emerged inside. Those eyes had opened so abruptly he staggered sliding over the slippery surface. What kept him up was the incisive tip protruding out of his boot.

The Pale Orc yanked his weapon rearward leaping from beneath the ice as if propelled by the force of nature itself. The chilling river splatters slammed into Thorin's face as the steel of the scimitar arm met his sword. The fight dragged out, another stab of the crenellated blade brought Thorin to block swiftly. Reeling, he faltered and slammed into the ice once again holding out with the dregs of his strength. His broadsword lodged in one of the notches of the arm-blade of his enemy. His face grew red with strain, a pained grunt lodged in his throat. Time has come for a decision, for he couldn't hold the brutal force off much longer. Oakenshield freed his blade letting Azog's weapon sink into his right shoulder. His weapon thrust forth simultaneously using his own injury as the distraction he brought his blade upwards finding the gap between the armor segments.

Azog's face went lax momentarily, his lips parted as if he struggled to comprehend the occurred. The Dwarf used the momentum to his advantage thwarting the leader on his back he pushed with force driving the blade deeper. The sword exited Azog's body at his back cleaving into the ice. Thorin freed his weapon, resting his boot on the Orc's chest in triumph. He straightened swiftly swell with pride as the Elven blade dripped with black. His own wound was throbbing, yet he was strong... He will persevere, he will not meet his death this day. The shoulders pulled back in gained accomplishment he strode out to find his kin. Thorin's thoughts fluttered back to the colossal pile of gold his mount held in its' womb... The Dwarf was almost off the treacherous, cracking ice, until a faint sound, akin to a sob of a child drew his attention back to the lake.

 **x x x**

 _ **'Heavy in your arms' by Florence and the Machine**_

Was the impetuous drive she felt, somehow determined by the fate itself..? Yet then again the question still remained... Why? Why she felt compelled to follow..? Was it to witness it all for herself..?

Rimkaur did not recall how she clambered over the crag, crossed the lake... Her lungs were singed, head spun, yet she saw everything clearly. They simply gave in, her limbs... Her bare knees left faint trails of her dark-red blood as she ran and collapsed sliding over the hard icy surface to reach him. Shivering violently in consternation her small hands fumbled to remove his cuirass. A ragged sob caught in her throat had finally freed itself in shuddering gasps. A pool of black mired his chest, letting rivulets of all sizes stain his skin. The sight fueled her fury, ignited something within... There was a fiery current coursing through her limbs, she compressed as hard as she could, but the blood seeped through her slender fingers persistently spurting still despite the effort. Rim gasped hopelessly, hands slipping over his ribcage letting the inextricability sink in. The Northern winds teased her strands, they flapped at her back like a black flag, she cried out desperately forcing Azog to blink hard, he opened his eyes.

He looked at her, stare full with astonished gratitude. As if he hoped, secretly, for her to find her way back... To see her one last time.

"You..." A shuddering exhale shook his chest, the viscous, ink-black fluid spurted from the laceration. Black coated lips parted to release the powerful voice that now was nothing but a whisper.

"Expecting someone else..?" Her eyes brimmed releasing the scorching tears free. Azog's lips twitched stretching into a feeble smile.

"I've dreamt that we..." Rimkaur's voice faltered, she sobbed freely leaning forth to cup his face with both of her trembling palms. "I've dreamt we had a child... A boy..." Her fingers caressed his cheek, she was overwhelmed with love that constrained her thumping heart. "He had your eyes..."

His face contorted in strain Azog's eyes scintillated as his hand struggled to reach her face. His mate met him half way leaning into his large palm, the teardrops snaked around his numbened fingers running over onto the back of his wrist. Rimkaur nuzzled his neck pressing close. His blood stained her chest as their hearts began to thump in unison.

"Please don't go..." She plead ruefully. "Please..."

A violent yank put a halt to their embrace. A wide, mired blade came to rest at her neck, all he could do was to fumble weakly at her chest, the cold fingers traced the smooth skin as she was hauled off his body.

Thorin held the woman with renewed vigor. Overhearing the faint sound from the riverbank he spun to recognize the same maiden that accompanied them for so long... He trusted her, let her in... And here she is, mourning the filth!

"I thought better of you." He seethed as the blade began to etch into her neck. "But you're just an Orc whore." Thorin flipped the sword to compress the blunt side against her throat forcing a muffled choking sound. He spat at the body at her feet.

The last thing Azog saw was _her_ , bleeding in the enemy's grasp.

It was as if her soul went out with the cry that tore her chest as she witnessed the light fading his eyes. Once expressive, beautiful, icy-blue morphed into the lifeless glass. The only one she had ever loved just drew in his last breath... Rimkaur stilled suddenly, frozen with the horror of transpired. She felt so drained now, exhausted... Should she even fight now... Should she resist the death by the Dwarven hand...

"Thorin!" A hoarse voice echoed the river basin. Balin and Dwalin scampered across the iced surface warily. "It's Fili..." The silver-haired Dwarf's eyes glimmered with tears. "He lives!" Their faces looked puzzled when they first laid eyes onto the woman in their leader's grasp. Hair askew, blood coated limbs...

"Is that..?" Balin's brow furrowed, his mouth fell open.

Thorin's darkened eyes caught the light. Alas the transformation was only momentary, his lips contorted in disdain when he shoved the woman towards his comrades.

"Throw this filth off the cliff." He hissed as Dwalin's powerful arms tightened around the female's torso following their leader's order without question.

"Thorin..." Balin attempted to reason. "How can we..."

"How can you what?" The heir of Durin snapped. The veins on his temples rippled as he spat out. "I found her slithering at this filth's side... Orc slattern!"

Having had enough Oakenshield had relieved himself off the company. His nephew needed him.

Something wasn't right inside her. Something had fractured while her clouded eyes starred at the motionless body of her mate. Dwalin received a fist to the groin. She spun to face them directing both of her palms at their startled faces.

"What the..." The tall Dwarf twitched his finger, attempting to lift him arm persistently, yet it wasn't complying.

Rimkaur exhaled deliberately, Morhûn's lesson's were remembered. She had to hurry, without her constant pressure they'll set free within minutes.

 **x x x**

Tauriel's moss-green eyes were now swollen red with the countless tears she'd shed and yet it seemed they'd never stop coming. Kili's lifeless head cradled in her loving arms she simply stared into nowhere.

The sky-blue eyes of the Elven prince attempted to ignore the grief of his beloved for another. His jaw squared and fists balled tightly at his sides he watched the ravine intently motionless for quite some time.

The silence of the snowy landscape was pierced by a shriek and a scuffle, yet the Elleth still rocked back and forth succumbing to heartache. The last sound she'd heard caught her attention more than anything, her frozen limbs twitched as a faint creak of a bow being drawn carried to her ears. Legolas trained his arrow with the ever present unmistakable precision.

Tauriel blinked rapidly, a realization came over faster than an Elven arrow could reach its' destination. She wasn't the only one...

"M-my Lord... Legolas... wait!" Her attempt, her understanding, her warning came too late... It would have been vain regardless. The Elf regarded the captain of the guard with an unreadable passing glance before striding out the tiny plateau.

The slender, elegant arrow cut through her shoulder muscle, it protruded below her clavicle at an angle, missing her tracheas by a quarter of an inch. The world went black for a moment as her throat flooded with the fresh blood from the punctured lung. Rim's knees slammed against the ice. They won't leave her be, they won't be satisfied until she's hacked to pieces... Yet her only transgression was to love _him..._ Her teeth ground together, she won't leave easily.

The tip snapped by the pressure of her hand released the spurt of red. The mix-blood blinked hard sensing the numbness spread across her chest, it took over deliberately; a humorless smile flashed her blood-mired teeth. Brimming with hatred her blackened eyes watched the Elf vanish from view. That's when she stood, summoning all the strength left she followed the black spatters dripping from the Elven blade.

A roar to match the Orcish quarter of her blood shuddered her lungs spreading the agonizing pain further. She caught his stocky frame having an advantage of surprise, having no desire to hear pleas or excuses, not that he was going to give her any regardless. Rim's slender limbs bore strength unheard for a female, she pinned the Dwarf to the frozen ground. A notched, curved Orcish blade, captured the reflection of the setting Sun. It flew to dig into his flesh, expanding the wound Azog had inflicted earlier. When it passed his ribs the dagger slid through his flesh like butter leaving the wide anfractuous laceration in its' wake. Steam rising from her victim's torso she pitched her nose and cocked her head, almost as a predator about to break the neck of her gutted prey. Overwhelmed with the utter shock and mind numbing pain of the lethal injury all the Dwarf could do was gasp wildly staring into the inky eyes, as black as the death herself. Freeing her knife Rimkaur clutched his face with the renewed fury. Her weapon rose once more, the droplets of the Dwarf's own blood slid off it spattering across his face.

"This is for him." The woman scowled parting his skin once more. She worked quickly nearly flaying the skin on his forehead, ignoring his gut wrenching cries. The bloody runes stood out greatly against his lurid skin.

 _'Azog'_

The same blade came to press against his tracheas, her bloody fingers encircled the hilt at the ready.

"Rua, No!" A soft, yet terror filled voice came from above and Rimkaur's stare flicked up. Bilbo recoiled, fumbling a step back he shivered, his bare feet slipped across the packed snow startled by her feral appearance.

"But Bilbo..." Her lips quivered as if in confusion of a child that was caught doing something not allowed. "He killed _him."_ The bitter tears broke onto the surface once again as her eyes morphed back to gold. Her trembling palms compressed her cheeks leaving bloody handprints. "He killed him." Rimkaur's frame shook in agony chanting the same ominous phrase.

"He killed him..."

The brutal, stabbing pain spread across her scull down into the top of her neck, the warm rivulets of red melted the snow beneath when she collapsed rolling onto her back. Eyes half shut stared into the blurred yet very blue sky, her lips parted as a tiny shuddering breath wafted away.

Dwalin and Balin rushed to Thorin's side. The old Dwarf dissolved in tears at the bloody sight, the taller one let his face be overcome with an agonizing scowl thumping a small body at his feet with the tip of his hefty boot. Bilbo's limb shook violently as he rose his arm attempting to interject. When the Dwarves left in a great hurry carrying their leader to help in a last ditch of hope the Hobbit's palm covered his lips. Nausea, torment and confusion washed over the tiny burglar in great waves. Was it the same Rua he befriended, the same sweet, innocent girl that attacked Thorin so viciously... At the thought of his lifeless friend carried away Bilbo's eyes pricked and he let the scorching drops free. But her death weighed on him... An exhale that was more of a sob escaped his throat as he stared at her bloody frame. She seemed so small now... Rua's last words came back to him at that moment. Down the slope of a snow covered rock lay the body of their most vicious enemy, Azog the Defiler. Mr Baggins trembled briefly recalling meeting the terrifying Orc face to face. Why would she care about... He connected the dots quickly, yet it still appeared impossible. Lovely, kind versus... The Hobbit shook his head barely, it wasn't his place. Yet to him it seemed as if... Bilbo fidgeted on one spot eager to run after his comrades, yet he couldn't...

Her body jerked across the snow leaving the wide trail of blood so prominent against the white terrain as he dragged her exerting himself. Bilbo wiped his forehead finally coming to a stop. The Hobbit knelt cautiously positioning her frame carefully as if still afraid. Finally satisfied, Mr Baggins straightened his limbs staring down onto Rua tucked closely against the massive Orc's side. The winds carried over scattering her bright strands across the black coated chest. Bilbo bit the inside of his lip. Before anyone saw him he hurried back yet halted a few steps away. Returning briefly he fumbled in the inside pocket then stuffed a crochet-trimmed handkerchief into her bloody hand carefully.

"I am sorry Rua." He murmured.

* * *

 **Please do not hesitate to comment your thoughts! And thank you so much for reading! :****


	10. Take it all Away

_**Well Dears, you basically saw everything shatter in the last Chapter... :P Read on to find out what happens next!**_

 _ **THANK you all so much for your support and reading my story!**_

 _ **And THANKS to my all silent/invisible readers/viewers. Don't be shy COMMENT. ;)**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Ten**_

 _ **'Take it all Away'**_

 _ **'Ohne Dich' by Rammstein**_

A heavily armored, grey-skinned male bolted into the tiny clearing, he knelt compressing a palm to his chest attempting to steady the breathing. A several pairs of eyes directed at him he shook his head to everyone's rage and dismay.

"Nearly caught me..." _Farmak_ breathed out struggling. "We have tuh head fuh thuh mines..."

"Gundabad." The soldier's deep yellow eyes flashed ire, he snarled at the panting Snaga. "Commander said Gundabad." _Hûrûrzushum_ appeared frustrated beyond repair clenching and straightening his numb fingers. His signature northerner's shaved cut made the straining veins on his temples even more prominent. The smaller male in front of him stood his ground despite terror leaking through the surface of his grey eyes.

"Ye think I wan'tuh trudge back, eh?" In a moment of defiance Farmak rested his calloused hands on his hips. "Dem short fuckuhs flood whole way through. Can't go North..." The young Orc sighed exasperated. "Nearly got beheaded mi'self..."

Five Orcs and one Warg occupied the woodland glade at the foothills of the Northernmost part of the great Misty Mountains range. Just a day travel North-West lay Gundabad the home of the two of the taller soldiers. The massive males weren't one bit happy they were not traveling home... Moria was far South... The task bestowed upon then however required an immediate resolve.

Two others were slender, much shorter Snagas. Being born in the mines they knew the ins and outs of the underground kingdom including the fastest way of getting there.

Hûrûrz's chest released a muted growl, the tip of his boot knocked a few scattered rocks far out the clearing. "Lead the way." He hissed petulantly, setting his jaws.

The Warg in the small mountainous meadow held the fifth Orc. Now even more pallid, the body of their slain King was fastened to the Matriarch's back. Her snow-white coat was mired in coagulated black. The large wolf's bright golden eyes were directed East in an absentminded glower.

The group proceeded on foot through the thick brush and rocky terrain. The plains, just a league away beneath were full of danger. Dwarves and Elves were advancing to force the leaderless Orc army remnants to flee. But none protested when given this task. Their grim faces and bloodshot eyes held the determination to give their leader the deserved final resting place. The quiet trudge, accompanied only by the shuffling of their footsteps was broken by a nearly whistling howl. The Matriarch's lengthy claws gouged the semi-frozen earth, she halted bowing her massive head...

"Leave her be." Until now, the entirely silent second Gundabadian interjected.

The soldier's skin was lighter than the rest, yet still held the visible tone of grey. Unlike the bright yellow and grey eyes of his comrades, his were dark, almost jade green.

"She is grieving..." The Orc continued.

"Ain't doing much..." _Maushflokh_ retorted. " Just wanna offer'er some..." The small male stared into the ground fiddling with his fingers. "Some... Comfortin'..." His last word was almost a whisper.

 _Sâkaf_ smiled bitterly, his eyes held respect for the eldest. He didn't know the master besides of what his father had retold many times... An unerring and fearsome warrior, one to be remembered for centuries even after he is gone. Even though the loss of the great leader as such weighed on him he could only imagine how much of a burden that was for Maush and Farmak.

The small pack traversed the treacherous terrain until the navy black viscidity of the mountainous night had fallen upon them.

Sâkaf's face was nearly smooshed into the wilted grass as he nursed the tiny spark into the growing fire. He positioned the patch onto the packed pile of sticks watching the warm golden flickers light up the small clearing. A stifled whimper startled the young Orc unexpectedly and he nearly fell out of his crouching pose. All gazes darted to Farmak who knelt, slumped forward, his lean frame swayed back and forth, the rounded eyes were directed at the corpse of their King. It appeared he didn't realize sobs and mutters were escaping his chest.

"No... I cannot... I still cannot..."

To relieve the Warg they sat up the body to lean against the tree and staring at the massive frame of the once formidable ruler Sâkaf in his turn didn't register his jaw fall open. The bonfire's radiating rays snaked up the limbs to his stone hewn features, they wrestled with the shadows on his pallor face. Azog the Defiler appeared as if he closed his weary eyes in a moment of fatigue after a long battle that was no doubt victorious.

Their King looked alive.

Maushflokh knelt quietly by his comrade's side. He glanced up momentarily, then his defeated gaze buried into the ground. The young Morian continued plaintively.

"...when da passed..." He inhaled with a whistle. "Mastuh' done take care of me and my..." He broke down into another soundless sob.

"I know, boy... I know." Maush's strong fingers compressed the younger Orc's shoulder.

Listening to Snagas grieve Sâkaf stare traversed the hardened features of the lifeless face. It was impossible to look away. The colossal muscles wrapped the skeletal structure covered by the skin as pale as the morning sky traversed by greying clouds that were sure to bring rains. Many marks covered the massive frame, the most prominent of all the gouged rifts of his tattoo scars. The signs of dominance and fearlessness none other could bare. If someone as mighty as him could be slain what can be said of the rest of them..?

An interesting injury attracted his attention and the young Gundabadian stepped forth. Quite recent, covered with freshly coagulated ink of his blood, the tiny wound was clearly inflicted pre mortem. Sâkaf's sharp eyes detected the shape of a mouth and every tiny incision each tooth had made even from afar. The bite mark _._ Careful, clean, yet very deep, exactly where the massive shoulder muscle met the neck...

 _The mating bite._

The soldier's thoughts floated instinctively to the Orcess his heart beat for, the one he hoped to see again... Make her his own...

The Kingdom had a Queen, the Orc's thoughts returned to the present. He wondered if she was back in Moria awaiting her beloved's return... Only to get his body brought back, draped over the back of his Warg, drained of life so soon after consummating their love...

At that moment the young Northerner had promised himself he will return home, he will not be the one to break the hearts of his mother and the one he loved.

"...Now what..?" Hûrûrzushum let out suddenly, clearly overwhelmed by the vision they beheld.

Unseen to all Maushflokh's eyes darted to Sâkaf, before he gave Hûrûrz a knowing look.

"We hope, boy. We hope."

 **x x x**

"You are alive!"

Her wiry, trembling arms encircled his neck, she wept stroking and kissing his bruised face all over. The female's attention to her mate was broken only by their startled Orcling, the boy released a howling whimper. Rocking and soothing the baby on her hip she returned her attention to the warrior.

"Easy there, _maathizub_." Durbûrz grinned wincing slightly when she squeezed him tightly once again. He kissed his female on the lips pausing to savor the taste. And then as if for the first time her gaze fell onto his injuries. Bûrzkaur's lips shook at the extent, she went to set their son down. The Orcess scrambled to heat the water and gather rags. The wounded soldier slid down painfully, his body now in the safety of his mate's arms, he suddenly became overcome with fatigue. His lids leaded, he blinked gravely shuddering in agony but then relaxing at her touch.

"She helped me..." He murmured hoarsely. And faced with Bûrz confused gaze the Orc attempted to speak louder.

"She was ther'... Rimkaur..." The male sighed. "Went to'im..."

"She wouldn't listen..." The large, stinging droplets inundated the Orcess' inky eyes.

"Ain't ye fault." His voice raspy, Durbûrz coughed deeply attempting to clear his throat. "I've seen her eyes. She'duh gone till Arda's end for'im..."

Bûrzkaur's knife-edged teeth drew blood from her lip. Would she ever see her friend again..?

The young mother continued tending to her mate's injuries.

 **x x x**

The life in times of war is always different, in any Kingdom. It is harder, strained, filled with worry, longing, hope. And so it was in Moria. With nearly all males gone, the mines were quieter, almost desolate at times. Even the littlelest of imps seemed to loose their vigor and playfulness.

The work didn't stop for Foshâlob however. There were always newborns, in the area that densely populated it was inevitable. The birther was happy for it, they'll need it. Hard on many mothers but the aftermath of the battle will require the population replenishment. She expected three imps today.

Being one of the eight elders Fosh also was in charge of all the happenings, not that anything happened at all. Except occasional brawling, disagreements that was about it. The elder committee was comprised of four females and four males, who shared the power equally. One of the males was the birther's mate, too old for any wars or quests. Their many children were already grown and mostly females, yet her old heart didn't rest easy. Her two eldest sons were ordered to Dol Guldur months ago. Having a good part of Gundabadians in them they were taller than most Morians... Stronger... The female sighed fixing her lengthy grey locks into a high ponytail.

The wrinkled face popping up at her doorway next surprised her more than any.

"What ye want?" The elder inquired in mock anger. "Don't think ye having imps no mo..."

The stooped, grey Orc in front of her lifted the stare that was previously glued to the ground. His face forced the birther to swallow her words. His wrinkle littered, shriveled face it was... Were those tears she saw?

"What's wrong Hiisht..? Neve'seen ye like'dis..."

The ancient Orc could barely stand supporting himself by leaning onto the doorframe.

His breath came out in a lengthy, quivering whistle. "It's... Fosh... The elders gathered in the chamber... You must... You must hurry." He held onto his chest doubled over as if about to faint.

Not being able to get anything else out of the old weapon-carrier the Orcess ran like she haven't done in years. It must have been something of great importance, something...

The dimly lit gathering chamber housed the pelt clothed elders who positioned themselves habitually around the newly lit fire. Away from the group four fur and battered armor encased Orcs stood gloomily in an almost eerie silence. Foshâlob scanned the dark faces concentrating on the newcomers. They were covered in a thick layer of road dust, mixed with sweat it morphed into the stickiest grime. One, she recognized. She birthed him. Who could ever forget those dark emerald eyes, so similar to his mother's...

"Fosh!" One of the elder females wailed before the birther could master to mouth a word.

"It has happened... The unthinkable..." The other elder was always more dramatic than usual but this time the others followed suit. All look distraught, lost...

"...What... Wha'hapnd?" Foshâlob was able to breathe out faintly.

The overwhelming sensation of coming horror crept up her spine in waves.

Maushflokh nudged Sâkaf and without uttering a word the young warrior led her to a small adjacent chamber. A pelt was spread neatly in the middle of the compact space, on it lay their King, paled and bloody, fist balled at his side as if overcome with ire the massive Orc was about to attack an unseen foe. Fitting into the room barely was also his Warg, curled against his lifeless frame. Foshâlob's shaking palm covered her gaped mouth.

Back it the main chamber an elderly Orc cleared his throat. It took the ancient male a few moments filled with huffing breaths to compose himself for the inevitable speech.

"Hard times are upon us." The elder's voice was deep and thunderous, non befitting his seemingly frail frame. "The loss is great, but t'will be greater." The male straightened not without great effort supporting his stooped frame upon his staff.

" _Gothizubu_ fathered no offspring. Haven't mated. After we aid his departure to the world of shadows we must elect the successor."

Hiisht's gaze fell onto the ground swiftly as he shuffled on the spot which didn't escape Fosh's sharp ruby eyes. Before the Orcess could confront the elderly Snaga someone drew the self-appointed speaker's annoyed glare.

Sâkaf made a noise in his throat.

Faced with the stern glare of the elder, who apperantly wasn't accustomed to interruptions the Northerner's cheeks darkened with guilty and embarrassed blush. He tilted his head forth.

"But he did... Have a mate..." The Gundabadian hesitated. "Master has a mark on his neck. Right where the mating bite should be."

Someone rushed to the next room to confirm and the moment was used by the birther. Fosh grasped Hiisht's rough shirt shamelessly.

"What'd ye know ye ol'bastard? Huh? I've seen yer look!"

Confronted with her fury, the Snaga's stare flicked to the others helplessly but they were no less curious.

"He did." The former weapon-carrier sighed. "He done mate'er..." He shuddered.

"Who?!" Fosh and a several others shouted in near unison.

"Rimkaur. She passed by tha'ol' fortress. Smelled'im on'er." The Snaga squinted as if expecting a repercussion. "Durbûrz seen'er as well..." He added hastily.

"Got'imself a young one eh..." The dramatic elder interrupted smirking darkly. "Well... She gone afta'im reckon she might be done with as well..." The elderly female lifted her receding brows in speculation.

"Dun't have'tuh mean that." Foshâlob's forehead split by a deep wrinkle.

"We-we haven't seen nuh females at thuh'lake." Farmak offered in carefully. "Commander done said take care o'thuh... Thuh mastuh that's all." He shuffled on the spot uncomfortably.

"What of thuh'commanduh?" The second male elder inquired raspily, he burst out into a coughing fit forcing everyone into silence.

"...If not then Sâkaf will..." Someone's voice attempted to add in.

Hûrûrzushum and Maushflokh stared into the ground shaking their heads. The Orc group simply didn't know. They left the battlefield with the body without looking back. Amongst the hum of the discussion all seemed to ignore the baffled Gundabadian.

"...Rimkaur..." Sâkaf brow furrowed as he repeated the name once again.

Fosh's gaze flicked up as she was the one to notice once again. She should've known... Should've known from how flustered the girl was when the master brought her back to the mines...

"Your sister, _hûn._ " The birther approached tentatively. I'm sure your sire have told..."

"... _Akh_." The words had left his lips absentmindedly.

Then, hesitantly, he started once more. "...I do not wish to rule... My father... He will live." His features contorted in agony as the young warrior attempted to stifle his emotions.

He had to leave, had to return immediately. He and the others had fulfilled the order, now his sire needed his aid. The terrifying thoughts of the Dwarves reaching Gundabad plagued his mind, attacking his mother, his beloved...

He also had to search for his sister...

 **x x x**

The task of preparing the body for the final departure was taken by Foshâlob. The young Gundabadian was compelled to volunteer as well. After all if his sibling indeed mated the master, he was now or was supposed to be family. It's the least he could do before taking his leave.

The funerary chamber was lit by numerous candles creating the required solemn mood. The elder worked deliberately, dipping the cloth into the warm liquid she scrubbed the blood away. Fosh bit her lips, amongst many congealed coal-black streaks there were barely discernable signs of dark red. Her fingers clenched the edge of the granite platform.

Not hers... Not hers... She reiterated inwardly.

Foshâlob's chest rose in a deep inhale. She was supposed to grieve yet she was almost suffocatingly livid. When Rim was sent off in a way alike Shapogatâr she was relieved... But now what... Even if the poor imp is still alive what will she do when she learns of the Pale Orc's death... To loose a mate especially such a brief time after the bond is created is more often than not does not end well. The grief drives one insane... Slowly eating away at the heart until nothing but a shell remains.

"You think she is dead don't you?" Sâkaf noted despondently.

She must have let more emotions show than she had thought. The birther met the male's astute green eyes.

They shone with a calming, jade light. "Tell me about her Foshâlob... Tell me more of my sister..."

 **x x x**

Sâkaf and Hûrûrzushum left abruptly, supplied with Wargs by Morians. The rest of the population readied for the final departure. Deep in the bottomless shafts of Moria, many _glâdu_ of snaking stairs and passages down into the impenetrably dark mountain womb was _Morlum._ The Black River disappeared into the underground cavern never to be seen again. Orcs believed the stream led to the world of Shadows, where all dead must go.

The body rested on a wooden float, decorated in best furs. Azog's arms were crossed on his chest in sign of the regality of the deceased. No final speeches, no ceremonials, their King was the leader of a few words. The few of the population that could make it into the abysmal cavern mirrored the eerie silence of the underground. Eight Snagas, including Farmak and Maushflokh carried the platform.

The soft gurgling of Morlum was the only sound until a familiar voice produced a raspy whisper.

"Mmm... Mastuh got somethin' in'im hand..." Hiisht nudged Fosh as her vexed gaze darted into his direction. That anger faded however, there was something, protruding ever so slightly from master's tightly constricted fist.

"Go'n Hiisht check whats'it..." The elderly speaker halted the procession. The cot was lowered carefully and Hiisht stepped tentatively as if walking on ice, his shriveled skin covered fingers clenched and straightened with nervousness. He started slowly with only one of his digits but soon had to use both of his hands to attempt to unclasp the Pale Orc's fist. With all else failing soon huffing and furrowing his brow he was using his two fingers as a pincer, grasping at the object inside...

"Something smooth and... W _arm_..!" Hiisht's eyes shot wide. "I-I... can't free mi'finguhs..." His arm jerked back as two other Snagas attempted to aid.

A sound so prominent, it silenced the melody of the waters, it inundated the cavern resounding off the pitch-black walls, a hiss bound in a growl.

 _"Narrrr."_ It sputtered growing ire. _"Nar..."_

 **x x x**

 _ **"Still here" by Digital Daggers**_

When you are submerged your vision is clouded no matter how clear are the waters. You might see things that are no longer there. That's what he was, floating in the viscidity of his own mind, delusional in his desperate hopes.

In his bed, under the softness of the pelt his hands fumbled around not to find her... The panic chilling his heart, his chest heaved as his attempted to peel his eyes open. When something small and warm, pressed to his side suddenly, the gentle palm slid up his scarred back.

"Rimkaur..." The warmth exploded in his chest slipping down into his stomach as he rolled on top of her burying his face into her fragrant locks. Her body, smooth, small, alive with desire arched beneath him... A shuddering breath of relief escaped his lungs... But just like that she vanished as if never there. Azog awoke, struggling to open his eyes, clinging to the pleasant illusion, face against the fur, arms around an empty spot. A roar escaped his throat, reverberating the cavern it tore his chest until it slowly morphed into a rueful howl.

She is gone... She had been gone...

The Orc rolled over onto his back his rapidly rising chest exposed a lengthy scar, as straight as a pin, right in the middle of it. The sides of a large laceration were fused forming a dark grey scar tissue. The large pallor fist unclenched to expose a tiny object. The rounded silver locket she wore when returned, the thin silver chain still attached to it from when in his last attempt to reach her he pulled it off her neck... The same neck the Dwarvish weapon rested against... The Orc's thumb brushed the intricate filigreed landscape still delineated by blood. In an odd reaction his lower lip had began to tremble.

When Azog came back, in a sharp jolt, as if someone's helping hand had yanked him out, he was gasping for breath, even though he wasn't being drowned. The voice hoarse from disuse, he growled, rasped her name... As if still there at the frozen lake... Ready to leap to his feet and obliterate the Dwarf until he is nothing but the bag of bones.

The reality had sank in deliberately, he did die...

Yet his chest was still rising with breaths, his heart beating, the eyes saw through the blackness around him, he peered into the shocked faces not finding the one he wanted. How was it all possible? The palm sliding over the smooth river rocks he stood and collapsed immediately, many limbs rushed to his aid, helping him in silent awe and amazement. When the light shafts of the upper level hit his skin he had finally fathomed the location and slacked as overpowering waves of nausea rippled through his torso, forcing him to shudder and double.

"Not here..." He croaked. "Not here..."

He had to go back there... Had to get to her...

The King was taken to the healer's eventually, to get his strength back. But there was not much to be accomplished, all he needed was time. His wound of only three days old wasn't spurting blood even when he attempted to breathe deeply. The sharp pain and the sound of the blade slashing through his flesh still plagued him, yet he was still here, he lived... Azog recalled her sobs, her pleas, her beautiful, tear mired face...

All she wanted from him, was...

 _H_ _im..._

It was so simple, yet he, in his blood thirst and the madness of vengeance could never give it to her...

The Orc realized all now, even more so that the vile voice in his mind had lost its sound. He still felt it humming in the distance, yet for the first time in years he answered only to himself. And another realization came crashing down right after, as the image of Rimkaur's features still rippled in front of him...

In truth it never left him...

It was _her_...

Her inky tresses flapped at her back like a dark storm cloud about to unleash its fury, the small hands burned as searing coals on his skin. Her last gift, before her own life had faded away.

 _"...I've dreamt we had a child... A boy..."_ The soft, loving voice plagued by grief rang in his ears over and over again. Was she..? Was she with child... His son. In the fading torch lights his deep sapphire eyes shone as his insurmountable grief morphed into the reaction he haven't experienced in over two centuries.

In irrational moments of hope Azog thought she might have survived. He hadn't seen it happen... Yet something in his heart withered more and more day to day.

Interrogating Maushflokh and Farmak didn't give him much information. His own army was the mere leftovers and the Pale Orc had nearly rode there himself only to collapse in his still present weakness. His wound had opened back up and this time he hoped he'd bleed to death... Yet he awoke once again.

All have become increasingly dire when more warriors had begun to return from the battlefield. He spoke with each one, frantic, like a madman with hope in his bloodshot eyes. No one knew nothing of a red-haired human or even her sire... That was until a most Northern division commander had ventured back to Moria.

The war was lost, however not everything was in vain. The King under the Mountain was now deceased, his kin held an opulent funeral and rumors carried one name from lips to lips. He was slain by a woman with black eyes, a feral creature, a witch, a spawn of all vile that exists...

As the Orc soldier recalled words he overheard, Azog's glassed eyes stared into nowhere. He was many years back in one of these very tunnels, a small female child in his lap, pouting in her very serious fury.

 _"He lives?"_ The girl inquired. And as he nodded in confirmation her golden eyes flashed with an almost insane determination. _"Then one day I will kill him."_

The Orc re-telling the story cleared his throat.

"She gut'im, mastuh... Wrote yer name in'is flesh..." The soldier's gaze drifted to inspect the stone tiles beneath his feet. "Nevuh'seen since..."

The Orc King rose, his jaded eyes shut as he nodded to the soldier. He strode out of the chamber slowly, bereft of the remnants of hope.

 **x x x**

Staggering he faltered, his shoulder collided the wall, the Orc recoiled scraping his back against another stone structure, he slid down slumping into the corner. His eyes gazed about yet they did not see, the forearms were coated in clotted blood. He craned his neck to take another generous swig. The male's scull thumped against the wall clumsily. Honestly, he did not even know where the fuck he was... Some dark room to pass out it, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. What is the point of living... Waking up every day with the gut wrenching guilt so immense, it threatens to hurl your entire insides out... With the pain so crushing it is as if someone had expertly carved your lungs from beneath your ribs and left them laying on top of your chest for some sick amusement.

He resumed the aimless raids, throwing himself into the midst of any bloodbath, hoping for the chilling, spindly fingers of death to finally grab him by the throat, but it hadn't happened. His scars grew in number yet he still lived...

More so existed.

Azog consumed another gulp of the fiery liquid. He could not recall how much of it he drank... He did not discern day and night any longer, did not give a damn...

"What'ye doing here all alone?" A soft, yet raspy voice inquired.

Ignored, the female stepped forth leaning onto the door frame coquettishly.

"Can I join'ye mastuh..?" She continued, adjusting the velvety factor in her voice.

Azog's gaze flicked up. A brown-haired Orcess leaned onto the wall, letting a slit on her skirt expose her supple, grey-skinned thigh. His vision a variegated mess, he attempted to focus his stare as the visitor was beginning to grow impatient. Her gaze inspected his body, blood, the flask... With the sudden realization a vile and mischievous spark lit up her red eyes.

"Come on now, what about it then?" She flipped her hair to one side.

Azog sat, still transfixed. His head careened to the left gradually and the female took it as a yes. A grin revealed her pointy fangs as she began to unlace her leather blouse, stepping closer deliberately.

"About time you had a real fuck." She cooed. The Orcess approached as if prowling, then straddled him in one leap as a huntress with the incapacitated prey at hand.

"Looks like ye gon'need some coercin'." She snickered staring down his torso.

Her fingers tickled his pecks before she drew her blunted nose near to sniff his neck and jaw.

"Still smell like'er though..." She sneered. "Yer little _baalak_ pet..."

The Pale Orc's gaze focused onto the female in his lap. Snapping out of his trance, he flew to his feet so abruptly the Orcess' body thumped the rock floor. She scoot back as fast as she could, resembling a long grey spider.

"Out." The Orc bellowed, his voice thundering through the cavernous passages. "Get the fuck out." He roared.

The aforementioned female scuttled away as quickly as she could, spitting profanities along the way. "Mastuh he is... Fuckin' _flâgît..._ Bewitched by that twat... Hmmm..." She huffed angrily, lacing her top back up. In her distraction she had nearly ran into someone.

A lanky Orc, stood in the protection of the shadow, just out of reach of the nearest torch. He wore a sleeveless leather top and worn out trousers, his right hand held a long serrated dagger. He grinned at the female and sheathed the weapon, yet the malicious spark in his eyes remained.

"Wha'ye want?" She confronted the male, annoyed and impatient.

"Yer fine." The Orc kept a grin on his face, catching her off-guard.

"So what of it?" She puffed up angrily, examining the male in return, he wasn't half bad. "He dun't think so." Her eyes rolled back pointing to where she came from.

"Who's that?" His narrowed eyes kept the eye contact.

"Mastuh..." Her eyes flashed. " 'im still stuck on the half-blood cunt..." She crossed her arms.

"Mmmm." The Orc made a sidelong step and another, waking a half-circle around the Orcess.

"I'd nevuh let go of som'th'n like ye..." The male knelt suddenly, pulling her onto his knee he inspected her neck. "Non attached are we..?" The stranger smirked darkly taking a sniff of her skin he pressed his thin lips to her collarbone.

As she perked up, her arms holding around his neck tentatively The Orc looked up, his lips covered with a grin of mischief.

"Can ye do something for me sweetheart? A small favor..?"

The Orcess smiled in return.

 **x x x**

An incredibly compact cave-like room held about ten male Orcs. Their heads were bowed forth and when they exchanged words they spoke in hushed, nearly whispering voices. One at the edge of the huddle stood out as a leader as all quieted when he delivered words. The Orc was visibly aged yet still in his prime, the wrinkles he had he wore as proudly as his scars. And he had many, they covered his face and the visible parts of the torso. One in particular, almost separated his nasal bridge in too, disfiguring his cheek as well.

"Fortnight." The leader hissed. "We advance."

"Did thuh' bitch confirm? He inquired gruffly fixing his stare onto the lanky Orc who flared up immediately.

"Don't call'er that..." He attempted the retort, but witnessing the change in the leader expression corrected himself swiftly.

"Yes she did... _Mastuh._ "

The task the female had was comparatively easy, a mere distraction that will serve them well in accomplishing their bloody goal. The soldier shook his head as if attempting to ward off the creeping conscience from the back of his scull. He'll get rewarded well after all.

 **x x x**

The hurried heavy steps sent murmurs down the hallways, scuffles, rattle, growls and shouts confirmed it wasn't a simple quarrel. It wasn't as if he did not expect...

Yes, he did suspect that some might loathe his leadership, his decisions, or perhaps want revenge against something he did... But then again it's not like he gave a fuck anymore. Azog rolled his shoulders back and remained seated. They'll come here soon enough, they will track his scent. His absentminded gaze drifted to his left arm, the still razor-edged and fear-instilling prosthetic. The Orc brandished his weapon with darkness taking over his features.

"This is it then?" The voice was low and guttural. It thundered as if an avalanche of rocks tumbled past him down the cliffside. Yet it was still raspy and muted from disuse.

 _"Mal?"_ The Pale Orc inquired instinctively.

"Is that what _she_ would have wanted?" The gruff voice elaborated and with that again came the perception. He hadn't heard this voice since... Ever since he was an imp...

"She is dead, she doesn't care..." Azog's jaws gritted as once again he sensed the will leaving his body.

The large, glowing eyes told him that was no excuse. His head hung hopelessly but the mounting growl in her chest nudged him out of his misery.

"...Live." He mouthed direly. "She would want me to live..."

The massive Warg lowered her head nudging her master's shoulder softly.

"Her scent lingers still..." She rumbled quietly closing her eyes.

 **x x x**

If for a second they thought to overcome a leader that he was would do with a mere hundred Orcs was an insult to him. His weapon and his teeth hadn't seen the end of their days to the enemy's dismay. To add to all not all were traitors, not all took grief and exploited its effect. The years he ruled Moria had indeed earned the Pale Orc the unquestioned loyalty from many, including surviving soldiers and commanders. The uprising was squashed but surely not without blood. The once that survived were dungeon bound. And that was a dark, forgotten hole no one ever wanted to experience.

What all forgot however that one year was more than enough time for the turmoil to brew anywhere it was unattended.

Hiisht hated running. At his old age he thought he should be, whatever forces be damned for this, nearly sauntering down the hallway... Yet the news were, even when admitted by him too profound not too rush. The Orc careened into the gathering room, nearly tumbling to his master's feet he accomplished quite an entrance.

"Mastuh..." He huffed reeling. "Gundabad done taken by them!" He exclaimed as poignantly as he could. "The _Boshok_ tribes."

* * *

 **Black Speech:**

 **Farmak - Lizzard**

 **Hûrûrzushum - Brave Challenger**

 **Sâkaf - Falcon**

 **Maushflokh - Ink**

 **Maathizub - My sweet**

 **Gothizubu - Our King**

 **Hûn - Heart (Could be meant as 'Dear')**

 **Akh - Yes**

 **Glâdu (pl) - Measure of distance (One glad is approximately 1.3 feet)**

 **Morlum - The Black River**

 **Nar - No**

 **Baalak - Half-breed**

 **Flâgît - Idiot**

 **Mal - What?**

 **Boshok - Highlander**


	11. Not this Way

**_Chapter Eleven_**

 ** _'Not this Way'_**

 ** _'Klavier' by Rammstein_**

She stood by the gates, watching... Her darkened eyes glued to the backs of the warriors until they vanished into the early morning mist so common at this altitude. A deep, shuddering sigh forced the air out of her lungs, the silky strands the color of the ink fell forward obscuring her features, the female's lips quivered. Over twenty years she had waited, hoped feverishly, to only see the time chip away at her heart's perseverance... Now she had just bade farewell to her mate and her young son. The rhythmic clangor of the armor pieces vanished and with it her will, Narbai let the tears flow. Detaching herself from the wall the Orcess pulled her fur-rimmed hood up taking a stony passageway back to her dwelling... It was empty now she reminded herself biting onto her lip with force.

"If you were only here now my tiny, mischievous girl... Your old Ma would be alright..." Her hope withered but the gnawing ache at the back of her heart did not. Narbai found herself speaking as if addressing her long lost daughter...

The commander's mate was truly alone now.

 **x x x**

A flock of crows glid over the battle grounds cawing unstoppably, there were too many dead to count, too many open wounds, too much exposed flesh to sink their beaks into. Careening sidelong one of the ravens broke apart from the group, his flight path took him to the frozen falls as his altitude decreased tremendously. The scattered Sun rays broke through the clouds illuminating the bird's onyx feathers. It swooped low again and again before settling onto the jagged sheet of ice. Here he sat, watching, his eyes two bottomless shimmering beads. Like a black mirror they reflected what was lost...

The large bird took off sharply, pumping his wings until he has reached the wind tunnel. The raven glid South-West, heading for the dark wood.

It was as if her heart was clenched suddenly and released for just a fleeting moment but she knew... Something was horribly awry... Morhûn leaped to her feet striding to the entry she fumbled to hold onto the door frame, lightheaded so suddenly... Cawing outside forced her to fling the door ajar. The sybil extended her wiry fingers. As she looked into the black eyes, her own morphed arcane, the grey lips parted and contorted.

 _"Nar.."_ She seethed. "It was not destined this way..." The jade crumpled onto the wooden bench and the raven bounced off her hand settling by her side. "Not this way..." Morhûn's gaunt frame began to drown in traversing, blackening shadows, they travelled at great speeds, flooding the entire stretch of the forest...

 **x x x**

The Northern winds teased his long black locks as the commander of Gundabad halted his beast. The Warg seized the trot abruptly, his claws dug into the semi-frozen earth creating a volley of rocks. The wolf's maw remained agape, the lips curled exposing the natural weapons. The stench of the enemy flooded their noses.

Living in the mountains gave Shapogatâr's half-blood's skin a little color. The years hardly aged him but his eyes spoke of the endured, the time passed... Reflecting the afternoon Sun they radiated an almost otherworldly glow. His offspring by his side they both wore perfectly fitted armor decorated with spiked hooks positioned purposefully on shoulder-guards and arm bracers. It was produced in Gundabad...

When the order for master's armor had arrived the commander knew the days of peace were over, the deterioration of the King's mind had progressed beyond repair... Nothing had stopped it, nothing would now...

When he rode in to summon the army, Narzug has confirmed that Oakenshield still lived... The sudden reminder evoked a reaction, the one the commander had stifled immediately, Shapogatâr readied the battalions at once. His was loyal, and will be, perhaps to his end. His askance stare fell onto his son, his first male child, and perhaps now the only one... The boy's jade eyes scanned the terrain thoroughly. He is a great soldier... Will be a great commander. The half-blood flicked his wrist, aback of him the battle horn resounded the frozen landscape as a company rushed forth to scout the terrain.

The army of Gundabad has announced its arrival.

The soldiers spread out, a part of the army sprinted to aid the fighting in the valley, a smaller battalion circled the crag sniffing for Dwarves. Shapogatâr and Sâkaf remained on the top of the hill with the rest. The commander acted on his military experience, yet he still had to search for the supreme commander to further the advance.

After a several minutes they scaled the steep mountainside and came upon an aftermath of a confrontation. A large pool of scarlet red spread like a blanket, so prominent against the pristine white of the newly fallen snow. It crepitated under his footsteps resounding the eerily silent hilltop. Apart from the bloody stain was a smaller, darker one... It was smudged and merged into a dragged trail disappearing over the edge. The commander knelt, scooping a handful of the bloody snowflakes. His fingers unclenched immediately, the slowly melting dirty slush slithered off his palm deliberately as if to make a point. The Orc straightened tersely and made an uncertain step toward the precipice, for the first time in his life sensing weakness overpower his limbs.

And there she was.

There _she_ was...

He stared into space, blocking, attempting not to see... The male blinked hard, his eyes dilated as the breathing picked up the pace. His lips opened to release a shuddering breath... He spun to face his son, the eyes glassed and unreadable.

"Stay here." He ordered.

Descending took less than a minute but it seemed a while, his limbs were leaded... Perhaps it was an error. Someone else with the bright hair...

Twenty years...

His eyes stung, the scent of blood couldn't lie... A lump of nausea wedged in his throat, the heart expanded, tweaked... He held onto to his chest to quiet the frenzied pace. Her small body lay tucked against his master's as if she was simply asleep peacefully.

"Rimkaur..." The lips twitched barely. Her head, her chest, her face and lengthy tresses all colored in deep red of her blood, the rivulets entwined with the coal black of Azog's. The tiny snowflakes rested on her lashes...

 _"Lûb..."_ Shapogatâr whispered tenderly as his fingers brushed her locks aside, they burned against her ice cold skin. "Daughter..." The commander grasped her hands, cupping them in his large palms, he brought himself forth to kiss her fingers.

His little girl was lifeless.

The receding Sun rays reflected in the large tear drops he did not fight any longer.

A lot of questions lay unanswered, he was overcome with grief without attempting to comprehend... Was this the gesture of the undying loyalty to their King or was it... Shapogatâr's fingers sank into the soft leather of her garb as he lifted her limp frame, her head eased backwards letting the mired, fiery tresses brush the ice. All at once he rested the body back down. Scanning the terrain in one long look his gaze fell onto his offspring once again. The teeth impression marked her neck taking over her flesh proudly, there to announce the eternal claim... And now for the first time his stare landed onto their master. As algid as his daughter's, body, limp, lifeless...

Marked.

A neat bite claimed his lower neck, small, precise yet meant to scar. For a fleeting moment the half-blood's eyes grew widened, his lips morphed to be a tight grey line, the fingernails raked the icy surface in exasperation.

Perhaps now he will never know...

The half-Orc scooped his firstborn once again resting her body out of the view, sidelong of the lake in a deep snowdrift. He cannot take her home like this, Narbai can never know... Setting his daughter neatly he packed the snow around, then tenderly, as if she could still feel slipped an arrow shaft out of her shoulder muscle. The elegant weapon was undoubtedly of the Elvish make, but what stood out was the two tiny feathers at the tip of the fletching, they were painted gold. Forty years ago one of these arrows was poised to rip through his neck, deep in the shadows of Mirkwood... The gold dye as fair as the hair of its owner... The half-Orc's lips were numbened by the wintry chill of her skin when he kissed her forehead.

The commander straightened curtly, letting the segments of his armor click against one another he freed his weapon.

"Sâkaf." His gruff voice bellowed.

The young Orc arrived stunned down to the river valley with the equally mortified comrades in arms. Their stares could not peel apart from their downed King. All bowed their heads in an almost coordinated unison.

"Sâkaf, Maush, Farmak and Hûrûrz." The commander surveyed the soldiers. "Neither Dwarves nor Elves or Men must get the hold of the master." His arm swooped to the left.

"Head to Gundabad, await me there."

 **x x x**

He caught up to him on top of the hill where the two sides of a defile were connected by a fallen tower. His throaty, furious growl crawled forth resounding the stone brick walls, until it reached the ears of his opponent. Legolas' head tilted sidelong, the chiseled cheekbones lifted visibly as his fingers circled his dagger hilts at the ready, he spun effortlessly electing a sparring ready stance.

A tiny object tossed at his feet, the Elven Prince gazed upon it, rolling his shoulders. His jaws tightened momentarily. He hoped this Orc wouldn't cross his path ever again. The Elf darted forth propelling off the protruding stone, his finely crafted blades slashed through the air aiming expertly at the neck gap in the armor. Spines in Shapogatâr's arm bracer dug into the Elven leather guard when he bent his arm forth to thwart the advance. Legolas found his wrist twisted, his muscles resisted against the onset, the dagger fell and bounced kicked away by the half-blood's boot. The archer elbowed his opponent retreating a few steps back with a slight wince that contorted his light pink lips.

The former mercenary attacked in an instant, his eyes reflected the cold, calculating hatred he felt for the Elf. He swung his steel yatagan with the deadly force. When it missed it bounced off the rocks sending sparks in all directions. When it came close, it nearly drew blood, the Elven Prince found his clothing far less suitable. Legolas unlaced his damaged bracer hastily.

"You scamper like a mouse." The half-Orc sneered swinging the blade. "Fight like you ought to, _Golug."_

Legolas set his jaws, advancing forth he was off to one of his avoiding maneuvers when his head had jerked back, stunned he licked his lips sensing wetness. A rivulet of scarlet mired his flawless porcelain complexion after the scimitar struck him flat across the nasal bridge. Enraged the prince flew ahead, avoiding another swing he spun landing his boot onto Shapogatâr's knee. Forcing the later to stagger forth, he yanked at the cuirass poising the dagger into the vertex.

His slender body fell to slam against the bricks of the walkway weighed by the Orc commander's heavy armor. The half-blood rolled off, scooping the prince by his overcoat, he flung his frame against the wall with the brutal force.

The dizziness ascending the thought that was circling above his head had finally swooped in, this Orc was the one who came into his father's realm so long ago, fathered a child with his half-sibling, the tiny red-haired female had survived apparently...

Until his arrow had intervened...

The Elf snapped back to reality as his opponent's weapon came to rest at his neck. His jaws set and the lips contorted in a disdainful expression.

"You know what this' for." The Orc commander growled lowly.

"Don't!" Someone's concerned yet assured voice resounded, it trickled in as a rhythmic song of a forest stream. "Shapogatâr." He paused once again. "Please... Don't..."

He knew that voice. His embers flicked up to land onto the King of Mirkwood. The calm blue eyes returned his stare, Thranduil strode forward pacing himself. The Elf's elegantly etched, shade of platinum armor clicked mutely as he approached. He nodded courteously, with cleverly concealed relief when the half-blood hesitantly released his offspring.

Here they were, staring at one another... The presence of each reminded the other of past and lost. They ommited the plesantries, there was no time, no place for such things. Considering the fact that none was joyous to lay eyes on the other as well.

Aback of the Orc Legolas lifted his blade. The faint sound of air being parted by a thin blade came to Shapogatâr's ear as his hefty weapon swung in his wrist, on the path to cause destruction of its own. Thranduil rushed forth, with a skillful swoop of his blade the hilt landed onto Shapogatâr's nape.

"Leave him." The Elven King commanded, his eyes clouding with a memory, foreign and unknown to his son as Greenleaf strived to finish the job.

Thranduil sighed deeply, his pale blue eyes left the stone tiles of the pathway to land onto his firstborn son as he strode away stiffly...

"Your mother loved you, Legolas." He breathed out with an emotion pouring forth so unforeseen to his offspring. His powerful voice faultered, cracked as broken crystal. "She loved you very much..."

 **x x x**

The gusts of the icy wind advanced with force rustling his silky locks, forcing them to rise and flap like the wings of a golden bird. The King stepped across the snowy terrain. Thranduil's demeanor was calm and poised outwardly yet on the inside the chill slinked up deliberately to take hold of his heart. His son has left to relinquish the safety of his home to seek the quest of his own.

The Captain of the guards' limitless grief rushed back the agony of the loss of his own, so many moons ago. And yet it wasn't all, the half-blood warrior drove the keen sword of pain further yet putting the most recent anguish in remembrance.

The King of Mirkwood stepped across the fluff blanketed lucid surface his mind in another place, the recently freed sunrays shot forth from the cloud cover setting his segmented armor aglow. When he had reached the solidified precipice his gaze scanned the elaborate formation of the downward cascading water. The pristine white and clear was stained by the night black of Orc's blood... Somehow the sight caused the shivers up his spine...

A sudden sunbeam reflected off his arm guard, it bounced cheerfully without a worry in the world and when the Elf's arm fell it settled onto a snowdrift. Thranduil compressed his lips momentarily letting his gaze fall back onto the ice. He missed this... Missed admiring the world carelessly, missed _her..._ His sky-blue gaze tracked the sunbeam once again as it landed onto the wall of the icy bluff. He was pulled there unknowingly, as if attempting to capture the tiny ray. When he approached it danced on a child's blanched features. As small as she appeared the female did resemble a child. Thranduil knelt instinctively.

A human, clothed in Orc garb, begrimed by the blood colors of both races... Dangerous in life, no doubt as an expression of unreigned determination was still detectable on her motionless alabaster features. Yet it was still innocent, pure, kind... The Elven King was transfixed by thoughts looming over the woman's body. His numb fingers straightened instinctively as if having minds of their own they scooped a lock of her stained hair.

As a blink shifted his lids a barely audible murmur left his lips. _"Nare..."_

Thranduil straightened deliberately, the strange female's limp body rested in his assured arms.

 **x x x**

The six sense that most humans are graced with is heightened, strengthened in animals, especially wolves.

She was lost. The horrid, gnawing feeling at the back of her neck told her to sprint Northward despite her mistress' orders. Yet the strong, pungent scent of the enemy deterred her, she had also sensed blood... Rivers of it. The massive raven flocks glid past heading to the valey's depression.

Pafund collapsed covering her massive snout with her paws. She was exhausted. For days she darted the plains, coming close to the mountain, the Warg witnessed the swarms of Dwarves flooding the valley, no sign of the one she searched for, the one that saved her own life... The patches of the faint, barely discernable scent of her mother littered the area. Too weak and scattered to follow... The black wolf released a howl at the large glowing disk of the setting Sun.

She was powerless, directionless...

Giving her head a vigorous shake the Warg set her golden eyes onto one direction she knew, the place of her birth,- the mount Gundabad.

 **Black Speech:**

 **Nar -** No  
 **Lûb -** Daughter  
 **Golug-** Elf


	12. Not Alone

**_Chapter Twelve_**

 ** _'Not Alone'_**

 ** _'Herzeleid' by Rammstein_**

The atmosphere in the enormous chamber was cool and serene. The intricately filigreed arches and columns gave it grandeur, the roots of the colossal trees filled it with the woodsy, earthy aromas. The lanky warriors clothed in elegant armor to match the environment stood motionless rendering them nearly invisible if one did not pay attention. The narrow passageway alongside the throne vault resounded with the light tapping sounds of leather boots. Clothed simply in trousers and a hip length overcoat sans grand robes or his crown Thranduil strode elegantly yet assuredly. He halted by an antique, brass rimmed door and slipped in without a knock. A lovely female Elleth bowed immediately letting her astonishingly lengthy tresses fall forth to brush the ground. She saw the question in the King's eyes. Her own overcast in deep thought which in turn forced a tear to glisten in the corner of her eye.

"I do not know my Lord... It is heartwrenching to witness every day. The pain fills that chamber... Radiates off of..." She simply couldn't finish beginning to quiver with the oncoming sobs.

Thranduil stared into the polished floor, the tip of his leather boot bucked against the tiny ridge in the natural stone. The hope was still alive, yet he couldn't receive an answer from his own heart why he did hope, what did he imagined to transpire..? More pain at yet another loss or... A relief, a memory brought back into the existence?

His pale-blue orbs pointed to the door as they both strode out briskly heading deeper inside the maze of the numerous passages of the Woodland Realm.

 **x x x**

Awaking he leaped to his feet so rapidly his vision overcast, the head ached nauseatingly... The numbened fingers slipped into the matted locks to feel the trickle of coagulated blood. Shapogatâr staggered forth shaking his head vigorously. He was alone atop the hill. Both King and his son were nowhere to be seen or smelled. In a hastened jog he ran up the hillside, leaped upon the crest and slid onto the lucid icy surface, his metal armor aiding his speed greatly. Yet another thing came unexpected. The half-Orc raked the disturbed snow drift checking the ice for a possible tear and darted his glare around the terrain frantically yet the body of his daughter wasn't to be found. The master was taken by his soldiers, who else could have possibly wanted the girl's body... A strained breath left his chest, how many times did he fail her and now even in death...

A several Orcs emerged darting past the icy lake, bloody, exhausted, panicked... Detecting the one of a higher rank the last in line slid down over the edge of the precipice halting the rest of the squad. _Pizgal's_ report wasn't one bit satisfactory and the commander of the forces of Gundabad had already made up his mind. With the lack of the leader and no clear choice to proceed he made one of his own.

"Retreat." The half-blood relayed the command.

The responsibility to save the remainders of the army was now his.

 **x x x**

There were colors. Marvelous, bright shapes, they shifted as if reenacting an odd play. Then began to swirl in an insanely rapid whirlwind sucking her in. Who said death is darkness or a bottomless hole of nothingness... A gushing wave of repose flooded inundating her being. It was as if she floated in that frozen river, except it was warm, so warm... As if her blood didn't run cold. The pain had come back shuddering her in the crushing gusts, the taste of metal overwhelmed. Her weakened mind flashed the last images through the head... And all of it was blood...

Blood...

Her mate's, her enemy's, her own... That was the only thing grounding her in this eternal weightless state. The reality of death. Was she allowed to return, was she even allowed to make a choice... Now the dark came, yet it did not feel insidious, sinister or voracious, it was calming, enveloping her, cradling like a child in soft inky ribbons of obscure opacity...

Her chest rose and fell with a strained breath, the stain of crimson spread the bandages of pristine white rapidly like a plague would a weakened body. The warm liquid spurted the inflating lungs leaking through the chest wound. The bright, thick fluid contrasted sharply against the pallid, deathly shade of her skin.

A slender female darted towards the cot compressing the bandages with a nervous shudder, seeing the fluid pump relentlessly her lips began to quiver.

 _"Mogumta?"_ That was almost the last straw for the healer's apprentice as a stertorous whisper left the otherwise motionless lips. _"Mogumaz?"_ It continued feebly sensing the touch of the gentle hands. The Elleth leaped up and darted towards the exit faced with the orbs the color of ink. The wounded flicked her eyes open for the first time in two months.

The apprentice's fingers released the bloody cloth as she was forced to abandon her escape attempt faced with the healer and the King. The nervous girl bowed hastily.

"She speaks, My Lord..." The Elleth quivered out.

By the time the duo was at the cot the injured female straightened tersely. Her gaze darted around the room in an almost feral fashion as a trapped creature surrounded by hunters. Her stare arcane and impenetrable was fixed on the three strangers in the room. Her chest heaved frantically causing pressure, forcing rivulets to escape her nose and mouth, coloring her teeth in crimson as a scowl distorted her face. Unforeseen to the spectators the woman released a visceral wail sinking to her knees she buried her face in her palms, collapsing to her side as the sobs shuddered her entire frame.

 _"Gorunta..."_ She wept wretchedly. _"Gorunta..."_ As if just coming to terms with the horrid truth. As the Elves attempted to subdue she resumed her resistance with a renewed vigor of despair until Thranduil's palm landed onto the female's forehead. She stilled, her eyes shut as if she relinquished all hope. As the blood stained lips parted to release a tiny quivering breath the teardrops of pure red fluttered off her lashes. She wept blood...

The gentle hand cooled her forehead emitting the muted shimmering light.

 **x x x**

A thin blanket of fresh snow covered his fur-trimmed hood, his Warg shook his head as the soldier halted the animal. The colossal gates swung open deliberately and Sâkaf trotted in, the vision he beheld halted his progress for one heavy moment. The sea of wounded and dead took over the inner courtyard leaving almost no way through. Many females tended to the injured and fallen, yet he wondered if that would suffice. Spotting his father ahead at the edge near the body of the fortress the young Orc rushed forth overwhelmed with relief.

"You managed to save many." He nodded to his sire in greeting of admiration and approval.

"Many perished yet." The commander's cheek bones lifted when his jaw set taut. "The task?"

 _"Akh."_ Sâk's gaze directed into the distance absentmindedly. "All finished."

"Father." His jade stare had suddenly returned to meet the ember eyes of his procreator as the Orc had finally made a decision to reveal what he knew.

"The master... Him and Rimkaur..." Something in Shapogatâr's expression caused him to doubt his confession. "We must find her now father, more so than ever... She might be..." He hung his head blinking rapidly and shaking his head as if to ward off the heavy thoughts crawling into his mind.

"Promise me, Ma won't hear of this." The commander grasped his offspring's armored shoulder as the latter conceded burying the secret of the sister he'd never met deep inside his heart.

The supreme commander's thoughts returned to the pressing matters of the non-existent leadership. He had enough power in the mountainous stronghold, the only trouble might be presented by the _Boshoks_ of the Grey Range. In Moria however the uprising was unavoidable.

 **x x x**

She positioned herself to lean onto the pillows, pulling up as he walked in noiselessly. The pang of the throbbing ache spread across her chest and head, the female's lips morphed into a tight line, they twitched with strain. She will not be perceived weak, she will not allow for it. The fair-haired Elf visited her often, his arrival always quiet, his scintillating eyes always curious. The conversations they had were always neutral when she managed to stay awake, able to combat the faintness and enervation.

His intentions were still unclear.

He greeted her with the usual nod and Rimkaur's eyes flicked to meet the calming blue light of his.

"When will you let me go?" The human forced her voice to sound as powerful and unfazed as she was able.

"The weakness plagues you still, child. It is unsafe." The Elf replied thoughtfully as the female's absentminded glower scanned the carvings on the wall. She expected this answer.

"Tell me the reason, Thranduil. The real reason." She replied coldly.

The King's eyes held a hint of astonishment. Weak, wounded, heartbroken yet the woman did not take the bait of the pure, selfless compassion. There was a hidden reason truthfully why the body of a small female wasn't abandoned to become a part of the wintry, desolate landscape. He wasn't ready to reveal it. Besides he was sure in her eyes that would not hold as a substantial palliation. She was so unlike the one compared to, stubborn, belligerent, unreined, with the determination to move mountains. Even in her feeble state she had already attempted an escape.

The Elf's gaze fell onto the carpeted floor as a few of his whispy, arrow straight strands slipped forth to brush against his cheekbones. A sigh left his lips, the air shifted his locks gently. Suddenly, as if years back he could have sworn he heard the pitter-patter of the tiny feet across the carved stone floors of the underground...

"I have a family." Rimkaur had resumed suddenly, holding her midsection she propped herself higher onto the pillows pulling her knees to her chest.

He met her stare and before his lips parted with an answer she detected a flash of something hidden in his aquamarine gaze.

"I wish for you to select an attire. Leptafinya will return to aid you." He changed the subject skillfully, striding out of the small chamber.

By the door the healer awaited, her hands clasped in front of her. Their stares locked.

"She holds her appearance." She conceded her eyes glistening. "She looks just like my little girl..."

 **x x x**

Her small palms slid to her midsection tentatively until they reached the region just underneath the belly button. The tips of her fingers curved in slightly to make light indentations. She cradled her stomach brushing it gently as if drawing small circles on her skin. The tiny bump was visible barely and only if she stood sidelong to the mirror unclothed. The Elven garb, thankfully, allowed room for such adjustments. The moment of confirming it to herself was when her heart fluttered insanely yet also thumped heavier halting the hastened beating for a brief moment. She was full with _his_ child. The tears flowed free, escaping unreined... How can one be so overjoyed yet unhappy all the same...

Still a relative prisoner in the walls of the Woodland realm she contemplated how long she will be able to conceal it. What would the King do upon realizing who could have fathered the infant..?

"I simply hope the pain I felt will not plague you little one..." Rimkaur murmured tenderly.

The door in her chamber was oddly only possible to lock from the outside, there were no windows, no sound reached there... Filled with more of her persistent strength she could have easily walked far yet she was let out outside the quarters solely three times and always in the company of Leptafinya and a duo of faceless guards. All the instances she brought it up to the King he failed to give her a direct response. She had guessed pretty quickly that Elf was obviously the one everyone answered to. There was an unmistakable aura of regality, strength, unwavering confidence...

Her near constant companion the healer Leptafinya was of no help either, clearly eager to go by anything Thranduil conveyed. She brought her food, brought her books, kept her company yet the human felt the nerves crawl over her back realizing how trapped she was. And for what purpose... The way the duo stared at her there must have been something... The Elves cannot detect scents that well, they have no idea she bears their blood or the one of an Orc... Yet that couldn't have been why the King himself saved her, brought her all the way back to the womb of his realm... Not to have conversations that's for certain!

When the lights had escaped her eyes all the rest she thought and experienced was in her mind the part of death. Yet awaking to the hefty boulders above her head she had hoped she was transported to Gundabad, even if by some miracle... Even if in death... She could have met him again... Was it her destiny to love and to loose in such a short period of time that there was none left to enjoy it..? The nights she spent writhing on that narrow cot... The agony in her chest... Was it possible for a heart to have spent itself so much that it simply fails... It beat against her ribs wildly as if being in this body was something it no longer desired... Yet now, now she had a purpose to continue existing. A tiny, fragile life she was going to protect at all costs. The young human collapsed onto the bed concealing her face, the despair was hard to combat. Yet she wasn't alone any longer...

 **x x x**

The cool air of the underground Kingdom tickled her bare thighs yet she wouldn't have noticed as the pressure in her pelvis had become unbearable. It did not go away only intensifying. The human grunted setting her jaws. When she collapsed onto the cot overcome with another contraction Rimkaur couldn't see over the hill of her stomach. The woman scoot up as quickly as she could aided suddenly by the ever present Leptafinya.

"It's alright, it's alright." The Elleth murmured gently, her voice collected and calming. She rested a wet rag onto the young mother's forehead solicitously.

"It isn't." Rimkaur rasped enraged, the thin rivulets of ink colored her eyes. "I am here." Tears stung her eyes at once. "When his child should be born in..." The woman exhaled audibly, a grimace of agony distorted her features. Her high pitch cry iterated the chamber resonating the walls until it morphed into a pained moan. Panting wildly she pulled herself up clutching the sheet until her knuckles paled. Another strained, powerful push and the tiny body landed into the healer's arms.

Leptafinya stared at the child. For a few moments the Elven female could not summon her vocal cords to produce a single sound. Eventually a stream of air left her parted lips. She wrapped the wailing infant expertly heading out the quarters. Her worst fears came to life.

"Give him back..." The new mother cried out feebly as the female paused for a moment yet made a few more steps towards the door. "Leptafinya..." Rimkaur slipped her feet to the floor, she collapsed as blackness obscured her vision. The pain pervaded her entire being once more taking over her insides, numbening her legs. The wet shapeless afterbirth exited her body and she struggled to rise clutching her belly.

"Give me my child!" The woman growled as the stunned healer halted in her tracks, then retreated back to her position by the bed.

"This..." The Elleth had a lump wedged in her throat. "This child... Your son is an _Orc_." Leptafinya's voice rose to a near high pitch shriek.

"Give him back." Rimkaur's arms extended upwards.

"You... You want him..?" The gaping _Golgi_ sank to her knees relinquishing the mired bundle.

The rising thunder of sobs tore her chest as Rimkaur's cheeks flooded with the scorching tears, the mother clutched her firstborn son. The baby ceased the wailing at once gazing up at his Ma with the eyes the color of the bluest sapphire. The flickering candle light illuminated his alabaster skin, his light grey lips puckered up as if he was attempting to blow a kiss. The Orcling's ears spoke of his parentage. Cuddling her boy to her chest to make him feed Rimkaur tickled the points with her finger. The top of his head was covered with a strip of the bright auburn hair that resembled a Mohawk, something he inherited from his mother...

"You look just like your Da." Her lips brushed the baby Orc's tiny blunted nose. "My _Ashlûk."_

As obedient as she was the Elven healer darted down the numerous hallways, her steps so light and hastened she appeared afloat. For the first time in her life she entered her Lord's study without knocking.

As Thranduil leveled her gaze Leptafinya felt faint simply at the thought of telling him, the courage and urgency she felt before were now completely dissipated.

"Well?" The Elf pressed on.

"All's well, My Lord. Rimkaur lives." She attempted to avoid the inevitable.

"The child?" Thranduil stepped forth keeping his stare on the healer. It brimmed with curiosity.

"The child is well." She quipped hanging her head. And as the King strode towards the door her fingers clasped his arm. Leptafinya recoiled immediately astonished at her own boldness.

"The child, My Lord..." She attempted to control her breathing still. "Not human... Not Elven... Not..." The Elleth would rather name all other races he isn't than the one he is...

His tranquil eyes met the healer's as the King of Mirkwood pressed his lips barely. "Remember, that's a part of her."

"But... You don't understand he's..." The Elleth hung her head, conceding, as his gesture halted her panting protests. They both vanished into the twilight of the hallway.

 **x x x**

Rimkaur's back leaned onto the smooth wall as she sat on the leather upholstered bench. Ashlûk curled up in her arms, both of his tiny, pudgy hands clutched her breast as he sucked contentedly. Over the two months after his birth the Orcling gained a several pounds already, he supported his weight on his arms and rolled all over the carpeted floor surface. The boy's intent blue eyes watched his mother as he fed. A tear glistened on her lashes, fluttering away it landed onto his nose. The baby sneezed and loosing the source of his breakfast released an irate purr, it shortly morphed into a pitiful wail.

"I'm sorry my love, I'm sorry... I simply can't help it." She embraced the baby tighter, he made her chuckle brightening yet another solemn mood. The breast securely in his grasps once again the infant narrowed his eyes staring up lovingly at the owner of the warm arms and the nice squishy milk filled mounds, he proceeded his favorite task.

The light knock forced her to drape a throw over her chest. Thranduil entered and seeing her position was about to retreat when she shook her head gesturing to the seat. When Ash had his fill Rim repositioned her top expertly pulling the baby out of his makeshift hiding place.

The eyes bright, his belly full little Ash sat on his Ma's lap watching the fair-haired male suspiciously as the latter approached. Rimkaur could not explain the Elven King's fascination with her son. As the Elf leveled his face to the infant's the baby pouted, his lips twitched, nose pitched then a tiny rumble left his chest exposing his only two fangs at the bottom of his mouth. The infant glared at the intruder.

 _"Mir Org!"_ Rimkaur laughed darting a satisfied stare at the Elf.

"Ferocious indeed." The King straightened pacing the room as the narrowed sapphire eyes watched his every move. Bending at once he brushed his finger under Ash's chin gently and the Orcling could not contain a giggle. The Elf repeated the gesture then glid his finger left and right through the air landing it on the infant's nose, forcing the latter to stare at the tip cross-eyed. The King retreated in time as Ash was clutching his digit attempting to pull the newfound teething toy into his mouth.

 **x x x**

His back against the slick tufted leather of the armchair in his private chamber Thranduil nursed a glass of the crimson liquid. What a turn of fate that was, that he happened to have the only known offspring of their enemy under his roof, in his grasp and, he hoped, control in the future as well. And birthed by _her..._ Out of all possible females, the Pale Orc had to take her... The boy's blood wasn't easy to conceal. She had never revealed the truth, yet laying his eyes onto the newborn he came to a realization immediately. That froze the blood in his veins, an even bigger twist of fate...

She won't let up her pleas... And he knew, her sire lived, by the mercy of his sword he wasn't slain by his overzealous offspring.

The massive oak door creaked lightly. Instead of the light brown of his usual visitor Leptafinya he was a bit astonished to see the dark copper strands peek out from beneath the black cloak. Rimkaur lowered onto the seat quietly revealing the dozing Ash in the front-tied sling.

"Leptafinya is asleep." The woman smirked with a hint of the dark satisfaction holding a tiny vile to the light of a single candle on his desk. The healer had a lot of herbs in her work room and Rim's years in Fangorn did not pass without a thorough education.

"You know why I'm here." She added before he could offer something in return. The King nodded.

"Yet this time I have an offer to propose." Rim let out calmly in an undertone as if attempting not to wake her son.

"As if you posses anything of leverage." The Elf's mouth tipped into a teasing smirk.

The human met his eyes, her own glowed in an assured, calm light. It's as if the decision she came to could not be swayed by none.

"...The gems of pure starlight..." The woman did not break the eye contact. "Oakenshield wasn't good about keeping anything in secret." The human's lips contorted. "You know they are still there. Tossed carelessly as if they were glass not priceless treasures."

The King of Mirkwood straightened so abruptly his loose shimmering robes swished against the edge catching the candle light they scattered the tiny lights all over the quarters. He leaned forth his eyes alight with feelings brought from very deep inside.

"I will get them for you." Rimkaur straightened in turn. "For that you will grant me and my son freedom."

Breaking the eye contact the Elf grasped his chalice once more taking a few steps from behind the table.

"Do you know why?" The male slowed his pace cocking his head barely. "Why you are here?"

"First, I must have reminded you of a long lost someone... Yet now it's Ash you after." The human's guess was as blunt and as straightforward as they came. What was the point of dancing around the truth, she knew and he did...

In an unexpected reaction Thranduil bowed his head with a light-hearted smile. Yet the joyous gesture vanished rapidly.

"Legolas wasn't my only child... Once..." The male lowered heavily onto a seat as if the strength holding him up had suddenly abandoned him yet his posture retained his ever present elegance.

"I had a daughter. Her hair as bright as the freshly molten copper, eyes as green as the moss after a Spring shower..." The Elf confirmed Rimkaur's suspicions.

"Narquelion... Half-Elf, half-Human." He continued his lips moving barely. "It seems as if yesterday... She simply faded. Leaving nothing behind but a long lost child." His eyes filled with the scintillating hope had lifted finally.

I"You."/I

* * *

 **Note: Orclings mature slightly faster compared to human children**

 **Black Speech:**

 **Pizgal - Corporal (Commanding a company of ten)**

 **Mogumta - Where is he?**

 **Mogumaz - Where am I?**

 **Gorunta - He is dead.**

 **Akh - yes**

 **Golgi - Elven female.**

 **Ashlûk - First son, firstborn, one son.**

 **Mir Org - Good Orc.**

 **Leptafinya - (Quenya) Clever**

 **Boshok - Highlander**


	13. The Way Home

**Thanks so much to all for your support! :)**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Thirteen**_

 _ **"The Way Home"**_

 _ **'Arcane dominion' by Eluveitie**_

"Son of Azog the Defiler, you have the Elven King for a grandfather." Rimkaur frowned pouting her lips towards her son. She held him above her head with arms outstretched. Ash stuck his tongue out producing a spitting sound then kicked his arms and legs vigorously.

"Yes _hûnizub_ that's exactly what I think." The mother cuddled her baby to her chest.

"What are we going to do..? How are we going to get home..?" She lowered her face into his neck and the Orcling giggled tickled by his mother's breath.

Young he is, doesn't know it yet... The thought of her child growing up in the Elven Kingdom set her mind to race. More so than the fact that the faired-haired Elf was the one who fathered her birth mother. The latter knowledge did not arrive to meet a shocked reaction. She did harbor suspicions ever since. Her newfound relative appeared to enjoy the company of her son yet the same grandfather wouldn't succumb to pleas of setting them on their own. Her recent proposal hadn't received a serious reply... The mother did all she could and the baby's heritage wasn't to be denied yet one way or the other he will be exposed, taught, influenced by Elves... That wasn't something Azog would have never wanted.

Rimkaur set her jaws into the tight line attempting to combat the tears, which if they came would inadvertently morph into the uncontrollable sobs... Her son couldn't witness that yet again. The human kept as resilient as she could manage yet the thoughts of her perished mate had never left her, she was simply distracted by the everyday life... The only joy and the reason to remain living was their boy.

Carrying the child in her womb, bringing him into the world altered something within her or perhaps brought something forth. Seven months into the pregnancy the voices began to appear, indistinct and quiet at first they grew more persistent and invasive. Was the occurrence the end of her sanity? Was it grief that had finally taken its toll..? Yet pushing the child out filled her mind with the light, gentle murmur as if someone hummed happily... That pleasant sound was interrupted instantly by the words as knife-edged as a newly sharpened blade, those words rang in her head pulsating with their sinister nature. The image evoked, a child screaming, gasping for breath as it sank to the bottom of the raging Forest River. And then the realization came crashing down, all this time the voices in her head weren't her own, they belonged to others...

Thoughts... And the last ones were Leptafynia's.

Yet Thranduil it's as if he knew... Blocked everything out, guarded his mind, his intentions, his secrets. All she was able to obtain wasn't of much relief, but Ashlûk's name fluttered past his thoughts in great amounts...

At times she could hear no one... Sometimes she wished it would not reappear yet it always returned in renewed strength, a swarm of muted chatter that took away peace...

Ash flipped smooshing his face into his Ma's chest fumbling tiredly for a breast. The growing Orcling would need meat very soon and in the Kingdom of vegetarian dwellers that would prove hard to acquire.

Rimkaur refused to dress Ash in the Elven clothes as well fashioning him a tiny loin cover and the half-sleeve shirt. He will need some leather booties shortly too... How badly she wished she could get her hands on some leather strings, claws, bones, teeth... The bright shock of his wild hair would need some embellishment and order...

The thoughts of decoration brought her mind to her own, her tiny silver locket was missing... Another tie she had to her family vanished without a trace...

Foreign thoughts invaded suddenly and Rimkaur's embers fixed onto the wrought iron décor on the hefty exterior door. A subtle, courteous knock followed.

 **x x x**

So much Elven life he'd spent just to reclaim what was rightfully his... A trinket that reminded him of _her_ so heartbreakingly much... Only to find someone else. Would he put her life in jeopardy simply to get the keepsake back..? The unfinished nature of the situation irked him, amend all those lives to have spent not without reason, yet risk one more in return..? There must be a great price on her head in the Dwarven lands...

When the news and rumors have reached he didn't think twice yet witnessing his granddaughter awake ushered forth the truth. The fact of her consorting with the Orc simply confirmed it. Rimkaur killed the Dwarf. The visceral nature of the deed, the amount of bloodshed told him to keep her subdued. Keep her on his good side. Yet how long could she remain without her power crushing her innocent façade..? Yet she'd do anything for her son, anything for the imagined freedom. Her proposal came at the right time. He wished she succeeded. Yet still... In any case the offspring of the Pale lineage will be securely in his grasp. The King had great hopes.

"I have reconsidered." Thranduil alighted Rimkaur with his intent gaze. The light blue irises held a smile shimmering in their depths.

All arguments she wanted to present had suddenly vanished without a trace.

"Yet there is one question that remains." The King bowed his head in a habitual, conceding manner. "What of your son?"

The young woman wasn't taken off guard by her grandfather's query. She inhaled deeply, underneath the cloak unnoticeably her fingers came together clenching into fists.

"The decision... did not come easy, Thranduil." Rim's embrace tightened on the bundle on her chest. "The choice I have to make to buy my freedom from you... Is to leave my son in your care." Just the words forced the tears to crawl to the surface stinging her eyes, the words she'd never thought to utter. To leave the most precious being to her with someone else just so the future will be what she'd wanted... At least partially... On one hand it didn't make sense to the young mother but on the other it did... She had to attempt. The risk was ever more apparent to her given the grandfather's hidden intentions. ...Rim was desperate... All escape attempts were to fail.

"I cannot take him..." She hang her head to meet the hope rising alive in her grandfather's eyes. "But if there is but a hair on his head missing... And do not think you can..." The Elf detected a black ripple in the embers of her eyes.

Thranduil rose, the aquamarine depths illuminated with the kindness yet which one, - truthful or pretentious...

"No threats necessary child." The corners of the male's lips curled into a calm smile. "I am compelled to at least attempt, why will _you_ not stay?"

"Why won't you let us go sans anything in return?" Rimkaur's response was derisive yet her voice raw with emotion.

"He is dead now you all drown in joy... I just want to go home..." It took a great effort, she bit her lip to nearly draw blood to keep from shaking as she spoke. The human's gaze lifted sharply then fell onto the sleeping Ash and the scorching salty water flowed free.

"Do not let Leptafinya touch him." Her voice was nothing but a whisper.

Her arms refused to listen when her mind told them to let go, she relinquished the bundle as if it was her heart she had newly carved out of her chest. One more condition bestowed on her made the predicament even more so real, the intent more inauspicious... If she would not return in two weeks from midnight her son would remain in the Woodland Kingdom for the lifetime.

 **x x x**

The chilled early morning mist entombed the mountainside and the nearby valley in its embrace appearing nearly bluish against the early morning sky. The air was crisp and biting, the occasional wind gusts rustled the scattered snowflakes and the small rocks that littered the terrain. The eerie and empty landscape was brightened by the peaking Sun and the small sound that grew louder and drew closer, indistinct at first it took over the vast space coupled with cheerful and loud children's laughter. The melody of an accordion and guitars came together to form an uplifting and energy filled ballad as gypsy caravan neared Dale. The once ruins on the precipice the city came a long way just in the year's time. The structures were being restored quickly and with purpose, various trade routes were being re-established. The caravan paused briefly at the city's gates before proceeding inward. The carts split up inside, following through the cobble-stone streets at a slower pace. Rolling down the hill one of the wagons rode over a rock, it careened rightways bouncing off the wall of a dwelling as the driver was able to steady the cart. Everyone escaped unscathed except for one tiny misfortune, a small child slid out of her mother's grasp. The dark-haired girl fell onto the tossed grain sacks and after a pause she released a terrified wail, her deep blue eyes quickly filled with the pitiful tears. The helping hands came to the child's aid this early morning and the mother froze gripped with the sudden terror as her stare landed on a raggedy figure of a beggar. The black decrepit rags hang around the thin figure as it swooped close standing the tot upright. The beggar dusted her clothes and the little one flashed a shy smile leaping onto the wagon's bed. After a moment of thought the raven-haired gypsy fumbled in the folds of her skirt revealing an uneven-edged coin she tossed it to the vagrant. The latter nodded as the carriage moved on disappearing down the constricted, winding street. Then it bent, the gaunt, pallor fingers grasped the shiny piece of metal holding it up into the light, the Durin's emblem and the head of the late king decorated the smooth surface of the coin's face. Inside the hood of the cloak two orbs came to light, they flashed matching the light of the rising Sun then faded into arcane blackness.

 **x x x**

His voice filled with assuredness and strength was a pretense. It echoed into the vast vault of his kingdom. His companion bowed his head in an despair fueled anger and strode out as straight as he could, his snow white beard swaying in the air produced by his brisk steps. The leader remained atop his large seat, the knuckles paled from the force he held the armrests with. The straw-blond hair fell neatly upon his slightly hunched shoulders. His mane was structured with even more intricate braids, the garb was opulent yet a hint of darkness plagued his blue gaze. Fili stared into nowhere. The tragedy of his loss had to be shoved out the way as the young Durin was to become the King under the mountain, as he was now. The leader of his kin had only recently left Erebor after spending an almost entire year in aiding and instructing the next in line. They said he was ready to rule, to be a great leader, hold the responsibility yet inside the young Dwarf was in shambles. He wasn't strong enough, wise enough... His uncle should have been sitting here with him and Kili by his side... His stare was unblinking the cheekbones rolled under his skin in an attempt of self control. Then they came to life, his head turned deliberately as the blurred-blue depths of his eyes reflected the yellow shimmer of the colossal hoard. Something else plagued the Durin. Like a genetic disease the golden sickness wrapped its sickly fingers around his heart crushing his will power unhurriedly as the arkenstone emitted it shimmering light above the backrest... There was no way to resist and it wasn't as if he would want to... Have a speck left to care. The cheerful Fili left in him wanted and he did yet all the new King was beginning to regard was the gold...

 **x x x**

 _ **'All that I'm living for' by Evanescence**_

Raven Hill was swaddled in snow just like the day she watched him die. Rimkaur broke the stare, her knuckles cracked as she attempted to subdue the crippling fever of emotions.

Such a short distance separated her from the colossal gates of the enemy's lair. In a matter of a couple of days she gathered the information she needed yet the toughest step remained.

Ash's cry rang in her head once again... Her gaze became blank. She must, she has to... For him... Rim owed her life to the Elven King, now came the time to pay him back and earn her child's liberty.

Foolish she was still, she, the most loathed creature in the Dwarven Kingdom... Even more so than the Pale Orc... Yet Rim was stubborn, daftly determined... Let it be the quality that propels her to victory... But she also needed luck.

And then it came, very fortunate turn of events she might have expected herself. A few wagons from the gypsy caravan headed down the steep, brick inlaid road toward the front gate. No one objected hers tagging along, who'd regard a feeble vagrant a threat..? The arrival was announced and she was allowed in with the rest.

Once inside a chill rolled through her frame. Every contracted muscle shrieked to retreat, her breath caught. Enemy's territory... Wanted... Dead... With the thunderous screech the double doors shut aback of the group.

Rimkaur gazed up into the limitless ceilings, the intricate, architectural and vast it was. The arches, vaults, passageways resembled a maze... All of it grand, dark and... Immense. How was she to discover what she required guided simply by the vague rumors, faded memories, nothing concrete or certain...

When they neared the inner hall an iridescent, faint glow could be seen upon the stone structure when one of the sidelong corridors wasn't concealed in time. That was all the young human required. The time wasn't on her side however. When the gypsies halted their procession her tatter clothed silhouette receded into the shadows.

The human rushed through the corridors avoiding any presence in the corners pervaded with the welcoming darkness. Many staircases led her deeper where it seemed as if there will be no escape. The glow grew wider, brighter, the numerous coins littered the cool rock inlaid ground. The foreign speech echoed in the tunnel nearby and Rim flattened against the wall once again. She had to get out of these catacombs before gypsies decide to vacate the mount.

Finally and gradually the dark bricks morphed into the sea of blinding yellow. The woman stood at the top of the stairs, its bottom vanished into the golden pile who knew how deep. She gazed behind her cautiously before focusing on the hoard. So that's what all was for... His Gold. He risked all for this, yet here it sits still, idle, colossal, useless. Perhaps the Dwarf planned to bathe in it..? A corner of her mouth contorted as she descended noiselessly scanning the unusual terrain. The King's seat sat atop the massive platform, four narrow black marble bridges connected the structure to the corresponding corners of the room, many staircases led up and down resembling an elaborate puzzle... Rimkaur headed forth, well worn leather boots compressed the coins causing small avalanches. A sigh of helplessness escaped her... So much ground to cover...

And then it happened as if by a miracle her weary gaze caught a speck of light. On a deteriorated, limestone pedestal there lay a necklace, the precious stones shone brightly just as the starlight worshiped by its owner. Rimkaur's thin fingers grasped the jewels not believing the luck. Now her path lay back through the golden bog and up the endless staircases, the human spun swiftly, the gesture caused the shimmering rivulets to pour and she had to steady herself on her feet. When she straightened to stare ahead she wasn't alone.

"Rua..?" A hoarse voice uttered, the owner squinted his eyes puzzlingly as if unable to see well. But just as if the clouds had suddenly moved in over his blue gaze the male's face contorted in fury, the jaws clenched, teeth gritted audibly in an obviously painful manner.

That's when the darkness obscured it all.

 **x x x**

Fingers twitched, bending deliberately they tested, felt the scabrous and damp surface. Rimkaur came to, she straightened her upper body sharply. The chains rattled as her limbs slid over the floor in panic attempting to force her dizzy mind to order the body to rise. The uneven heavy chunks of metal rubbed her skin raw and the woman released an irked grunt. Apparently the Dwarves didn't put that much craftsmanship into their dungeon equipment. A figure watching her stepped out of the shadow filled corner. The flaming embers lifted sharply.

"Tell me," Fili clasped his hands at the bottom of his back proceeding to stride back and forth along the prison bars. He resembled his uncle in his mannerisms. "Is this worse than an Orc dungeon?" His cornflower gaze was filled with a near genuine curiosity and Rim blinked puzzled for a fleeting moment. She inspected his face through the bars suddenly overcome, crushed by the seriousness of her predicament. Fili smiled audibly shaking his head as if it all was simply a jest. For a transient moment he resembled his true cheerful self. The Dwarf murmured something but as if to himself, under his breath. His eyes shut and opened with the renewed fury.

"What happened to you Fili?" The human inquired plainly.

"You." The young Dwarf lurched, grasping the bars in rage.

Taken aback Rimkaur remained still. This was not the same straw-haired Dwarf she'd known briefly.

"You murder him! You! And then..." The heir of Durin's skin paled to an almost deathly shade as he spat in fury. "You carve the name... The name of that... That filth into his face..!" The many emotions weakened his body Fili was forced to draw in a whistling breath pausing his tirade.

"That 'filth' was my only love." The woman straightened her back pressing her lips into the tightest of lines. The confession caused the Dwarf's face to distort in detest.

"I avenge my own." Her mouth curved into a bitter smirk.

"And I will mine." The male brought his face forth nearly touching the wrought iron.

"Much honor in killing a lonely woman." Rimkaur rattled her chains, for the first time she'd noticed her shoes were missing. To her last statement she did not need an answer. Unforeseen to her Fili's thoughts proceeded to crawl into her head and a shiver rolled up her spine. Tragedy changes people, sometimes to an unrecognizable degree. The young human's mind fluttered back to the different set of dark tunnels, her in a mighty lap of the Orc King. _"...One day I will kill him..."_ She said then, and she did. She kept her promise, duty to the one she worshipped then, respected, loved... The fingers compressed into fists she was inundated with the sudden pride, she accomplished the task she was free from the burden. Rimkaur did not regret it one bit. Her cloudy gaze returned to the baleful and mocking stare of the Dwarven King. She held it relentlessly.

"Not a woman, a witch." Fili clenched his jaws in a genuine disdain. "We await one of my kin." The Dwarf's head tilted a degree as he uttered the words in a proud kingly manner. "He wishes to witness you for himself." Bowing slightly as if they just finished a pleasant chat the King strode out of the dank pit briskly.

 **x x x**

She dreamt of her son again... Those moments of the uneasy repose tore her apart... He cried in every one of them... What will his fate be...

"Ashlûk..." Her lips moved barely.

A heavy screech and the hefty steps pervaded the eerily quiet cavernous chamber. A rotund figure of a Dwarf halted peering through the bars. His hair were lengthy and coarse, the color of rust. He released a low grunt before unlocking the cell.

"Just a wee lass ye'ar." He let out in a low, husky voice examining her small frame and shaking his head. "Yet Balin and Dwalin confirmed..." The stout male spun away as if contemplating... The next thing she knew his hefty fist connected with her jaw. The dark spots and flashes of light obscured her vision Rim slacked yet did not fall, the chains were screwed into the wall. He glared at her gasping and bleeding. The human unbent slowly, unsteadily, holding her chin as high as she could.

"Carve the fuckuh's bloody name..." The male struck again this time in the torso forcing more blood to trickle escaping her mouth. "...In his face..." He recited bluntly.

She will not cry out, will not beg, will not let them see her tears...

Rimkaur's eyes obscured with blackness. Yet there was something about this place... Or perhaps the death of her mate the distance that separated her and Ashlûk... She felt feeble, powerless, fragile as if even her ability had deserted her... Yet she could still hear his unobstructed, sickening thoughts. He wanted to degrade her, reduce her to nothing, it would please him to hear her weep for her life...

"That will bring the slattern down a notch." Dain called out to someone in the shadows as Rimkaur struggled to breathe, her lips shook violently from the force she compressed her jaws together with to reign in the shouts of agony.

"Beating a chained woman... A true ruler..." Were the only words she spat at him as he stared into the voids of her eyes paralyzed for a fleeting moment. The Dwarf's fist retracted once again.

"Stop." Fili stepped out of the mirk.

Launching a pool of saliva onto the mucky floor Dain strode out wiping his knuckles.

"Fili..." The bloodied black-eyed creature let out, her voice strained, barely audible. She saw a speck of compassion in his faded blue depths after he interrupted the assault. "Unchain me... Not myself I ask for... A life depends on mine..."

The blond Dwarf fiddled with the keys attempting to lock the grate yet his trembling hands refused to listen.

 **x x x**

A cloaked figure was barely visible against the shadows lurking in the main hall of the Elven Kingdom. Thranduil seemed oblivious however. The King rested on his throne dangling a few trinkets in front of the suspicious Ash. The baby was getting bored and hungry. No toys or attractions would compare to his mother's hugs. Suddenly the little one pitched his nose concentrating his icy gaze into the darkness. The Ocling's lips twitched forming a tiny smirk so similar to his father's. The baby's decreasing attention put his grandfather on alert yet before the king or his unsuspecting guards could react the form advanced, more so floated forth.

"I'm much older than you Thranduil." The calm, even voice came from the shadow of the figure's garb to startle the nearby sentries. "Yet age did not play even the smallest part." The shadow halted at the bottom of the steps. The form's concealed face lifted as the Elf stared into the void of her cloak. Pitch black darkness...

"Even this child guesses your intentions." The figure floated forth so abruptly the King could not twitch a muscle before the young Orcling was in the different embrace. One hand held the child, another lifted in a curt yet graceful movement slipping off the hood. The candle glow reflected off her locks as black as the raven's feather, her ink eyes caught the tiny flickering lights morphing into the same fiery ember shade.

"Are you going to let her die." The witch directed her hypnotizing eyes to the still speechless Elf.

Finally managing to erase the look of the complete stupefaction from his perfectly even features Thranduil's eyes twinkled with something akin to curiosity as he floated down the stairs. Dizzyingly rapid whirlwind of thoughts raged in his head.

"It's been a while... Morhûn." The Elf bowed his blond head barely.

Other times the jade would enjoy the pleasantries banter with the King who thought himself exceptionally witty. He amused her. Now was the worst time to waste time.

"...You made the choice for her." The Elven Lord opened his mouth yet the sibyl preceded him.

"You haven't been right by your daughter, do something for hers." Her golden eyes bore through his, Thranduil exhaled audibly, flipping his robe he returned onto his seat setting his arms in a regal manner. Thoughts of Narquelion set his lips aquiver, when he faced the witch however his calm and steely gaze surveyed the platform, the ruler of the realm was impervious.

 **x x x**

 _...The grass was as green as it always was that sinister day_

 _The blackbirds sang their songs as they always did that black letter day_

 _We passed the great gate for the very last time_

 _We did not look back because we knew we'd stay..._

The moon rose released from the cloud's overeager arms it casted a silvery ray onto the floor of her cell... Midnight... Two weeks... Alone she let the scorching tears flow embracing her knees. The salty water mixed with the coagulated blood, the rivulets dripped down flowing into a sinister river down her chest. She failed her boy... She has no one to blame but herself... No sleep came that night and the morning greeted her with the warmest January Sun. Not a cloud in the sky, a lovely cheerful day. That's when they arrived. The guards came and dragged her away. Outside, no ceremonials, no trials, just a sea of expectant folk with the scowls on their faces and the pile of compressed straw with the long wooden pole affixed to the pile of the grain sacks. The Dwarves wrapped the rope around her gaunt frame until it was a struggle to breathe. The same rust-haired male was gesticulating as he spoke pointing to her yet she didn't hear a word... It was as if all the senses except sight had withdrawn from her body. There was no fear, no sorrow... Just regret. Where in her life she'd made a misstep to have become as powerless as a hatchling...

No one gave her a chance to speak her last mind, all the mocking, odious shouts flowed past her ears Rimkaur stared ahead to where without the blanket of clouds the tip of the Mount Gundabad was visible clearly, her pallid face contorted yet the eyes remained waterless.

She will not beg, will not let them see her tears...

A barely concealed, gleeful grin was plastered onto the Dwarf's face when he dipped the torch into the fire pit aback of him. He brought it forth unhurriedly as if to bedevil, torment, infuriate... He shouted something to the crowd keeping the stare yet the human looked away marveling at the northern horizon.

The flames approximated...

Unexpectedly the brightly lit morning sky obscured with patchy, dense clouds which brought the alternating rains over the valley's depression. Rim looked up, for a moment her mouth tipped into a sarcastic smirk.

"Dump the oil onto the ropes..." Someone shouted, to meet the Dwarf's grunt of approval. "Burn her! Burn the witch!"

"Do you hold our truce of importance?" An assurance filled voice stated with a tiny hint of disdain and mockery. Yet as always his mere appearance forced the population to ignore the mischievous hints of his pronunciation. Using the shock his unforeseen appearance caused the male rode forth letting his mount part the crowd.

"Killing one of my kin would prove it canceled." And just as during the meeting at the Battle of the Five Armies Thranduil's aquamarine eyes caught the flickering Sun rays to light up with the impish, taunting spark.

"One of yours eh?" Contemplated Dain the Executioner. He never liked the King of Mirkwood, more accurately loathed the guts of the woodland sprite. He remembered the very recent treaty yet that was of Fili's doing... The good of his kin was of most importance, the hefty male let out a grunt tossing the torch aside. Yet innocently so the flames caught the tar covered straw. They gulped the dried grass, leaping over to the victim...

"Dwarves aren't known for grace..." The Ironfoot shrugged, gloat concealed in his squinted stare.

And at once the shadowy darkness obscured the spectators, if flowed past, rushing towards the fire, enveloping the condemned.

Rimkaur stood still welcoming the arcane wave, when it dissipated falling in tiny ribbons around her she wasn't the same. The flames were extinguished, the lacerations and bruises relinquished the hold on her alabaster hewn face. No light reflected in the bottomless voids that became her eyes. She leaped off the mound deftly without bending her rigid frame.

"The witch I am." The long incisors made her scowl even more wicked. The disquieting blackness of her orbs seems to leak away to pin the stout Dwarf to the spot. He gulped and blinked rid of his ever present cockiness.

"You keep your miserable life..." Rimkaur darted a stare past the crowd onto the crag. "...For now." She circled him to meet a gush of air and retreat from the surrounding crowd.

"Would you like to know how you _will_ die however?" A baleful smirk peeked her crimson lips.

 **x x x**

Up on the escarpment away from the hatred repleted valley Rimkaur rushed towards the black robe encased figure only to fall into her arms. And in the embrace of a loved one she let herself go.

"You're never alone child." Morhûn's spindly fingers caressed her tresses as they morphed back into the darkened copper. Pulling away the witch revealed the fur bundled Ash. As the baby nuzzled into his mother's neck her arms closed around him never to let go. The soundless steps of the ruler of Mirkwood halted right behind her. Yet Thranduil simply nodded and without a thought Rimkaur wrapped her wiry arms around his waist. Taken aback by the loving gesture the Elf let his arms slack before mirroring Morhûn's tenderness by stroking Rim's locks awkwardly.

"Thank you." She whispered, face smooshed into his robes.

"No need child." He replied.

Something happened to Thranduil. As if that deed, simply that nod of confirmation had also set him free. In that single moment he gained her trust, her respect, her love...

"You'll be seeing me again, you can be sure of it... Grandfather." Rimkaur gazed up with an mischievous smile, a spindle of light reflected on something she clutched in her fist.

 **x x x**

 **Two years after the Battle**

The gusty winds tore at the pelt positioned roughly onto his squared shoulders. The forces of nature whistled against the sharp rocks blowing handfuls of snow into the squinted eyes of the riders. But he did not care. His blood ran as cold as the frigid air they inhaled. This was his home, his domain, he came to reclaim it. His second in command would have squashed the uprising as fast as he would... All pointed to the latter's demise. As backstabbing as some were the half-blood was loyal, as loyal as his... The male's pupils widened at the thoughts so persistently creeping into his mind, heart... The same organ that's been encased in ice ever since...

The Orc's algid fingers came to form a tight, crushing fist around the hilt of his weapon, the algidity filled stare gave the valley of Gundabad a long, intent glower. _Boshoks_ will pay for their insolence. The King spun to direct his blood curdling stare to his soldiers.

"Forth." Azog hissed.

* * *

 ***Excerpt in Italics, from 'Alesia' by Eluveitie**

 **Black Speech:**

 **Hûnizub - My love (Lit. My heart)**

 **Boshoks - Highlanders (Tribes of Ered Mithrin)**


	14. Strength and Weakness

**Thank** _ **you so much to ALL who favorited, followed, commented and waited! I really appreciate you all and it makes me so honored someone took time to read my story!**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Fourteen**_

 _ **'Strength and Weakness'**_

 _ **'Königin' by Heldmaschine**_

The crenelated dagger entered the jaw penetrating the skull easily. The orbs the color of the human blood still held onto a speck of life and that underhanded intent. Thin fingers grasped the matted locks, the weapon was freed, entering the neck it severed the spinal cord. The rigid body remained in the upright position almost unnaturally before thumping to the scabrous floor tiles of the Gundabadian throne room. Thick black slid off the edged notches dripping into the abhorrent puddle at his feet, the dark figure peered into the dead eyes for one last time before tossing the bloody body part to the Orc's underlings.

"You threaten mine you die." It uttered in an assured yet somber tone smearing the blood onto the fallen male's fur throw. Before returning to the throne the master circled the corpse surveying the mime highlanders.

This Orc was quite a lot shorter than an average size _Boshok_ and even possessed much more height difference with the massive Gundabadians. His small stature explained possibly the ever present light yet durable armor and the quartet of bodyguards positioned on the both sides of his regal seat.

"Now, back to the matter." The commander uttered directing his black eyes onto the Grey Mountain group. "The deal stands still. You watch our northern borders. You answer to us. In turn we provide beasts."

 **x x x**

At the Gundabad valley's entrance the cliffs stood tall and proud as two unmoving sentries, a thin blanket of snow dusted their peaks. A soundless snarl distorted his light grey lips as he watched a battle-weathered, dark Warg pass through the defile that separated the aforementioned crags. Azog's nostrils flared, he recognized the rider. Black hair, pallor hide... The Pale Orc's algid eyes narrowed with lividity yet there was a discernable shadow of excitement at the impending blood to be spilled emerging within their depths. This one he did not expect a betrayal from. The male's lengthy, muscled body straightened oblivious to anyone who could spot him...

The King of Gundabad has returned to assert his claim.

Astride their beasts the group sprinted towards the colossal rust wreathed gates. Shapogatâr's Warg came to a stop at the edge of the courtyard yet before the commander could dismount a shout of agony echoed from aback. From behind a fallen rider a massive form began to manifest from the morning mist.

The eyes widened astonished by what was seen...

At the Raven Hill he witnessed the king's lifeless body himself... Azog advanced. New snow crepitated under the heavy boots... He was no apparition...

Perhaps dead do come to life...

No news ever came from Moria following Sâkaf's return. The commander's cheekbones lifted emphasizing his jawline, fingers grasped the hilt...

The Pale Orc came to a halt towering over his second in command. His warmth depleted eyes met the golden ones with purpose, Azog levelled his blade arm cocking his head. His upper lip shuddered in a forming snarl, the incisors came into the full terrifying view. Yet to his utter disgruntlement the commander of Gundabad returned his stare rid of any guilt. The Defiler's chest released a rumble, he began to circle his opponent as if taunting, challenging.

Loyal to the death, yet had taken the first opportunity... Azog glared taking a skilful jab forth. The knife-edged blade reflected the sharp rays of the morning Sun to be deflected by Shapogatâr's rerebrace. The half-Orc sidestepped promptly to avoid the following onset. Nothing but the enraged growling was that left the Defiler's throat, his eyes in turn gave away the distaste and the sinister intention. Betrayal was always met with death.

In a turmoil of a fight the arrival of another was left without regard. The black Warg stood sniffing the frigid air feverishly, a rider clad in the armor just as obscure as the mount's fur. Both were silent, as if taking in the scenery, as if frozen by the merciless winds.

The beast's snout lifted in a sudden howl, the Orcs froze finally paying mind to their surrounding. Both pairs of eyes landed onto the Black figure, Shapogatâr's reflected worry, Azog's contempt. The rider stood transfixed still. Nothing but an odd sound has left its throat. Too small to be a grey highlander yet its posture had an aura of regality, the quiet strength... The dark armor covered the every possible inch of the body, even the head was concealed beneath a helmet that resembled a carnivorous bird. Without a word he nudged its beast into motion.

Yet who could have expected the Defiler to ignore such utter disrespect. The Orc male lunged and the figure astride tumbled off pummeled by his massive body. The frail frame was in his grasp, pinned against the rocks of the courtyard, Azog's blade rose to press against the throat.

Aback of him Shapogatâr unsheathed his yatagan.

Yet it wasn't the half-blood's blade that halted the onslaught. The Pale Orc snarled baring his canines inches away. Amazed at the lack of resistance he sneered sucking in the air with a whistling inhale. Suddenly he was splayed flat on his back, feeling the rocks dig into his hide. The world hazed just for a moment as a scent of mountainous blooms wafted to his nose. Azog leapt to his feet grasping at the rider...

His stomach was heavy as if filled with mortar, the heart sped it's beating tenfold. Could the destiny or whoever writes it pull another one of its cruel tricks, instill just enough hope so the fire still burns, yet for what purpose..? He felt as if his lungs could not inflate any longer, with one pull the black helmet relinquished its hold freeing the tresses of dark copper. Even longer than he remembered they cascaded her shoulders contrasting the arcane armor.

In one swoop the heartache, the guilt, the crushing pain he felt were void, they retreated leaving nothing but a trace... His always assured, strong arm trembled so much he had to let her go as if burned by the contact. The Pale Orc's eyes shut heavily yet did not stay closed for more than a few moments.

It was no trick of vision. _"Rimkaurizub..."_

It was her. His knees gave in...

Azog inhaled deeply as a myriad of emotions danced across contorting his scar etched features. Truthfully he was afraid. What if he makes a move, a wrong one, one that makes her vanish...

 _She lived._

The deep, burning embers finally locked his stare, her lips quivered yet it was obvious she attempted to remain poised.

The human took one step forth.

"I hope you understand..." She let out, her voice audible barely. "I did all this for _him._ " The winds teased her locks letting them flap as a fiery flag, her lips pressed together into a firm line. Fingers were the tightest fists.

And just as quickly as she entered his life once again, she vanished into the depth of the stronghold. A quick, formal nod in parting.

 **x x x**

In the murk of the passageway Rimkaur braced herself against the wall. Her armor produced a screeching sound as she slid into a pile of emotions. All the strength she'd gathered, every part of her body had given out. Her surroundings were a dim blur, ears rang, the sensation of his grasp still constricted her limbs.

 _He is alive._ A deep sob sent an iterating echo down both sides of the hallway, the tears obstructed her vision even more. She was drowning, bound by intense emotions, weak and strong all the same, all over again... As she sat atop her beast it's as if the blood had seized its flow rendering her body useless. Seeing him again...

 _He is alive..._

How was it possible..? The light left his eyes... The last breath parting his lips shattered her heart... _She died that day, in more ways than one._

A new voice full of distrust rose within her. _All this time..._ It let out in a hissing whisper. _Did he search for you..._ _At least attempted..?_

 _Would you still place your life at his disposal? He's failed you..._ It bellowed from the deepest corners of her mind.

Was his mind still chained by the darkness..? Rim's fingers pushed against her cheeks as they clenched. She spent her all to convince him two long years ago only to fail...

Yet she would have spent much more to bring him back to life that day...

 _He is alive..._

Rimkaur's arcane gaze fell onto her open palms as her fingers formed fists. The scrupulous voice stood in silence as she came to another realization herself. Those hands held much more then she thought she ever did.

Here, alone in the all consuming darkness, why is she not in his arms..? Perhaps she couldn't answer that question herself.

There were tears arising from the corners of the ice blue... First time she saw him cry...

The distant echoes of the Black Speech brought her weak body to life as once again the woman evanesced into the shadows.

 **x x x**

When you do not see someone for a long while you still remember their appearance, their features but do you recall their scent..?

He did... And it left the large Orc dizzy. It was stronger now, intoxicating, it took over his senses... Azog recalled burying his face into those soft tresses, letting them slip through his fingers...

She lived...

His head spun. One who mattered the most... Her image pervaded his dreams all this time... Rimkaur is a _live..._

"Who was _him?_ " The Orc's bottom lip trembled and contorted. Those thoughts had never occurred to him before and now that they did, now that his mind began painting the corresponding images his teeth gritted to emit an unnerving sound.

 _Him..._

The shod iron produced a rhythmic clangor, it echoed the walls growing even more ominous. Azog strode in surveying the grey walls, it's been so many years...

But the fight he had earlier anticipated would not happen... There was no resistance... The knees buckled almost at once as if on command, whoever was present in the throne room knelt before the Defiler.

" _Shakhizub... Shakhizub..."_ The numerous whispers iterated the structure.

He strode further towards the massive seat adorned with iron. His throne... Azog lowered heavily burdened by so much more. He expected the taste of blood to quench that rage that burned inside him alike an eternal fire. She extinguished it immediately, her gaze was as cold as that lake... Now his heart was filled with so much he felt it thumping in his throat... His mind was somewhere else...

 _"Âdh!"_ The large Orc bellowed to his subjects.

The King's gaze trailed the vast structure once more... The eyes shut then opened with the renewed vigor. The rush of air leaving his lungs was audible... Her scent lingered still. Pitching his nose in a feverish inhale he was on her trail.

 **x x x**

In a mirk enveloped corridor even before his scent hit him, the male's ember eyes stood out against the darkness as the Defiler turned the corner in his brisk pace. The second in command held the King's stare.

"I've found you on the ice... Bloody, lifeless... Her by your side..." The half-blood inhaled sharply. The words left his lips deliberately as if he wanted to emphasize each one.

"As rid of life as you were... Curled up against your chest... All those years..." The hardened soldier's frame slacked suddenly.

"The hardest day of my life."

He picked his head up abruptly.

"It had to be her?" The half-Orc's voice vibrated in an undertone reiterating unknowingly the same fact the King of Mirkwood came upon.

"About a year ago she came here... Alive... I witnessed my firstborn to be a different one. Untold agony radiated her darkening eyes."

The Pale Orc's eyes glassed, his incisors held his lip as it began to twitch. The feelings descended onto his shoulders crushing his will power.

"But then she revealed _him_. Your son." The commander's stare returned to meet the pain fractured ice blue. "The reason she kept on living. She's been through so much..."

" _Lûk?"_ Azog's exhale hitched.

The commander of Gundabad straightened suddenly, detaching something from his belt his passed a medium sized pouch to his King. The dark liquid burned yet instead of dulling the senses it brought them further into the existence.

The former mercenary gestured into the murk and an Orcess stepped forth, she had someone with her... The ice blue lit up the pitch black... The same way the Defiler's eyes had always cancelled the darkness.

"Ashlûk." Shapogatâr smiled. _"Kranklatub."_

 _"Krank..."_ Little Ash blinked hard, the Orcling's gaze traversed upwards the massive frame. _"Krankizub..."_ He exhaled as the surprise painted on his features began to slowly be replaced by curiosity. The left corner of the lip curved upwards the eyes narrowed. A gesture so akin to his father. _"Dur!"_

Without uttering another word the Orcling sprinted forth attaching himself to his sire boot. "Da!" He exclaimed. Shapogatâr let a smile upon his lips. There was so much he could see in the master's eyes... The load lessened if only a tiny bit...

"I helped her reach what she had become." The half-blood's voice softened tremendously. "I would do anything for her and your son... I only hope you will do the same."

 **x x x**

Ashlûk spent more and more time with his father. The little one was quick on his feet attempting to copy and keep up with his sire. He earned a tiny shoulder pelt marked with the emblem of Gundabad and insisted with unusual vigor to someone his size that his loin-cover be customized by adding the rib-guards his father sported once again.

Rimkaur rested on the floor her legs crossed, the worn out toddler passed out on the pile of pelts after the whole day outing into the peak encased valley two hours Warg ride from the stronghold. As usual the Orcling returned with a plethora of trinkets and little things he would always pick up along the way.

The young woman inhaled deeply marvelling at the torch lights dance on her son's bone white skin. The feelings that inundated her being this past couple of weeks caused her to have experienced many odd sensations. Her nerves crawled, skin alnernated between ice cold and as hot as you couldn't bare to keep your clothes on. She spend nearly the entire time in a sort of a disguise as she called it, raven-haired and ink-eyed. Recalling grandmother's hints she sank her teeth into her bottom lip, her palms covered her ears as if that way she could have stopped those persistent thoughts.

She knew the reason...

The woman extended her sinewy arm forward. A firefly had suddenly froze in the mid air, buzzing louder at the sudden paralysis. She let the insect go and the tiny flicker of light circled in waves above Ash's bed before disappearing into the gaping window. Rim relaxed her hand extending her fingers forth as if pointing at something unseen. If she can transfix objects and beings perhaps... A wooden bowl jerked and tumbled when she caught it hurriedly simply by moving her fingers. Her eyes lit up and widened this wasn't something she could ever accomplish. Ash stirred and flipped as sentries in the courtyard laughed louder than usual. Rim's arm was still in the mid air, the lips parted to release a small waft of astonishment, nearly transparent at first the fluid matter grew wider and longer seemingly emitted by her fingers.

The reason why she could never reach her full potential was...

The mass grew darker, longer resembling a ribbon ripped away from the arcane wave her grandmother saved her with. It snaked through the air as she controlled it directing it towards her boy. She touched his hair stroking it tenderly and the youngling rolled back into the comfortable ball under his blanket. As she led the whip like shadow down his cheek unexpectedly the dark grey mark of a bruise he'd acquired earlier vanished without a trace. The shadow switched to his tiny palms, he scraped as he fell and they were free of the injuries likewise...

The eyes suddenly golden again quickly pervaded with tears upon the overwhelming profundity of the realization. That day at that algid lake... The gaze fell onto the palms... Was she ever capable..? To bring him to life...?

The voice inside again asked the question. Why is she not in his arms weeping in joy? He seemed to have proven himself dedicating all the time to their son... Hasn't rallied for war or revenge... There was no more dark master in this corner of the world... Could she forgive...

Talk to him... The heart whispered gently. Talk to him...

 **x x x**

The darkness crept slowly into the window left ajar. The spacious chamber wasn't lit, only the moonlight illuminated its occupant faintly. Azog leaned onto the wall, his back uncomfortably straight, he sat on the pelt haphazardly tossed onto the ground. The Orc came to sleep in the other side of the separate wing. How many days has she been avoiding him now..? Every time he came to see his son she as if knew, vacating the room in advance... There was always Ash and _Dauman..._ Here and there he felt the faint traces of her scent... That was all he had to satiate with.

Had the love left her heart... Were his deeds inexorable..? The male unearthed something small from his belt pouch squeezing it in his large palm.

A flicker of light came to its vibrant life in the window opposite his, quite a distance separated them, a length of the sky bridge that connected the two wings. His heart jolted and stilled, she was there. Small ivory hands raked the lengthy, damp tresses that cascaded down onto the light cover she wore. Azog tensed suddenly taking in a deep, shuddering breath he blinked heavily but looked on. That gown stuck to her wet skin becoming transparent, the nipples lifted the shirt attracting his stare. One of the palms slid down her neck, the young woman leaned forward as if inspecting something in her mirror without knowing she was being watched. Her thin fingers trailed the bite mark. The one _he_ inflicted more than two years ago. The Orc King's rigid fingers grasped the polished rock of the windowsill with the force that could surely crush it. That bite attested to the claim no one else could break or cancel, yet somehow in the back of his mind he still expected someone else's arm to suddenly snake around her waist.

His mate... His _Gazoghâsh..._

Muted and pained growl rose to life in his chest. Her digits caressed the tiny indentations...

Fingers as claws around the windowsill clenched tighter grasping in rock crevices. The sensation, the feeling, her smell were hard to control igniting a fire not easily extinguished. He became aroused, painfully so, he needed her in more ways than one. The convulsing muscles of his limb eased releasing the vice-like grip, the tunnel vision overcame his gaze as everything in front of him was a blur but that illuminated window...

 **x x x**

The bold rays of sunshine burst in the early morning. The air was still bound in chill yet the golden beams managed to warm the skin. Rimkaur's lids fluttered sleepily as she heard the scuffling Ash.

"Ma!" The Orcling leapt onto the pelts then rolled over to tuck himself against her chest. "Dau, me go meadow."

The young mother opened her eyes to see the toothy grin inches away from her nose. Rim snorted a laugh.

"Be careful, my love. I will join soon..." Her fingers ruffled his lengthy hair.

The sleep pulled her into its arms and she'd drifted off...

All at once a female's shriek iterated the corridor, then another. And then a current, a debilitating wave of someone's thoughts swept over Rimkaur's blurry, slumber encased mind...

Dauman...

Panic...

Tears broke the surface, she shivered overcome with the chilling terror. Rim straightened, suddenly so faint on her feet.

In the corridor the flickers of torches and stomping of feet... Dauman carried him and a sob tore Rimkaur's chest. She staggered...

'Ashlûk...!'

She took Ash into her embrace, he looked so small now... A deep laceration ran the width of his torso connecting both shoulder blades. His pallid face mired in his mother's scorching tears...

 _The heartbeat..._ She sobbed in relief.

The crushing pain and distress radiated his tiny being. A cry of wrath and her own agony tore her chest. The Pale Orc witnessed her transformation as she lifted her void black eyes up at him. The darkened ink took over eating away at the bright cheerful tresses.

He cannot be taken away... Not so soon... Azog's nails dug into his palm drawing blood.

The trembling sentry passed something to his master. The Defiler's fingers constricted the lengthy object until it snapped in two clinking onto the smooth stone walkway.

The Dwarven arrow.

"Ready the riders!" He roared at the nearby soldiers.

Azog lowered heavily next to Rimkaur and Ashlûk as the arcane ribbons obscured them in her fury.

* * *

 **Black Speech:**

 **Boshok - Highlander**

 **Âdh! - Leave!**

 **Rimkaurizub - my Rimkaur**

 **Dur - Large, big**

 **Gazoghâsh - Wildfire (One of the nicknames Azog has given Rimkaur)**

 **Dauman - Winter ( A trusted, older caretaker that helps Rim)**

 **Lûk - Son**

 **Krank - father**

 **Kranklatub - your father**

 **Krankizub - my father**


End file.
